


The New Kid

by AngelOfLorien



Series: The New Kid [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Atlantis (Stargate Atlantis), F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slow Build, Stargate Command, Stargate SG-1 References, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 03:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 97,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20900732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfLorien/pseuds/AngelOfLorien
Summary: Dr. Brady Thatcher has been assigned to Pegasus as a forensic linguist. Mentored by Dr. Daniel Jackson and various members of SG-1, she is more than capable of handling what the assignment throws her way. But she didn't count on a giant Satedan with a hair-trigger temper and a heart of gold...





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This story is old AF and was originally posted on FF.net. I've made changes here and there, but if anything is out of whack, please excuse it.

## THE ARRIVAL Dec. 14, 2005

“Chevron seven is locked.”

Brady Thatcher looked back at General Landry, Cam Mitchell, and Walter Harriman, giving a small wave.

“Give ‘em hell, Brady,” Cam said.

“Good luck,” said Daniel Jackson as he watched her walk up the ramp. He noticed her hesitation as she eyed the shimmering wormhole. “Relax. If you need anything, I’m just a wormhole away.”

Brady nodded and took a deep breath. She approached the wormhole and shook a lock of dark red hair out of her eyes before straightening her shoulders and clenching her eyes shut. She’d traveled by Stargate more times than she could count, but she still hadn’t mastered stepping into the wormhole with her eyes open. She emerged on the other side with a slight stumble. Warm hands and a friendly smile greeted her as John Sheppard reached out to steady her.

“Easy Dr. Thatcher,” he said lightly as she straightened.

“Brady,” she corrected automatically.

“Well, Brady...welcome to Atlantis.”

“Thanks,” she said, returning his smile.

“So the word around the SGC is that you’re the next best thing to having Dr. Jackson around,” Sheppard said as he took her pack.

“Um...yeah, I guess,” Brady said absently, looking around. “This place is...wow...”

“Yeah, it is,” Sheppard said. “Come on,” he added with a jerk of his head. “I’ll show you your quarters and then introduce you to the team.”

“There’s only one?” Brady asked, and then shook her head as she brought her eyes back to Sheppard. “Sorry. Dumb question. I really am brilliant,” she added with a shy grin. “It’s just...this place is awesome.”

“Well I’m glad you like it,” he replied. “Let’s just hope the feeling stays after you’ve met McKay.”

\--

“Dr. Thatcher, nice to see you again.”

Brady shook the outstretched hand and smiled at Elizabeth Weir. “Dr. Weir. Thanks for having me.”

“Please sit,” Weir said, indicating a chair at the table.

Brady glanced around the room. Sheppard and Weir visited SGC semi-frequently to give their reports, so she was somewhat acquainted with them. The rest of the members of Alpha team were strangers to her.

Brady’s gaze flitted from one face to another—Weir, Sheppard, the petite woman across from her, the friendly-looking blue-eyed man to her left, and the sullen face of a man who she immediately recognized as Rodney McKay. Sam Carter had warned her that McKay was somewhat of an acquired taste. She planned to ignore his inevitable hostility.

“Ok, well this is fun,” Sheppard said as the silence stretched. He leaned on the table and crossed his arms. “Brady, this is Teyla,” he said pointing at the woman across the table. “She’s a newly acquired friend of ours.”

Teyla bowed her head slightly in greeting which Brady reciprocated.

“Carson Beckett,” Sheppard continued, laying a hand on the shoulder of the man to her left. “Resident Chief of Medicine. I always feel so intellectual when I say that,” he added with a wink at Brady.

“Pleased to meet you,” Beckett said with a shake of Brady’s hand.

A little bit of Brady’s heart melted as she heard him speak with his thick Scottish accent. She smiled politely.

“Nice to—“

“I’m sorry,” McKay interjected, waving his hand and shaking his head. “But I cannot possibly be the only person here who thinks it is ridiculous that ‘Dr.’ Jackson,” he said with air-quotes, “sent this...infant...to act as linguist on this expedition. I mean, no offense, but the girl’s younger than Ford. There’s no way she’s adequately qualified in knowledge of alien dialects.”

Brady heard the door behind her slide open, but she didn’t turn around to investigate. Instead, she kept her gaze steadily on McKay.

“McKay,” Sheppard began with a sigh.

“First of all, ‘the girl’ has a name,” Brady began, unruffled by McKay’s rudeness. She stood so that she wouldn’t feel so much like something under a microscope. “Second, I am above and beyond capable to complete any assignment you give me. I’ve been off-world with SG-1 on numerous occasions, not to mention the other SG teams.”

“What’d I miss?”

Brady jerked her startled gaze toward the deep voice behind her. She looked up—and up—into the face that stared down at Sheppard.

“Ah, Ronon,” Sheppard said, patting the giant on the back. “We’re just introducing Brady to the team. Brady, this is Ronon. Ronon, Brady. She’s—“

“The new language specialist,” Ronon said. “Yeah, I heard. Is there a problem?” he asked, scowling at Brady.

Her mouth snapped shut with a click. “No. It’s…well, I mean…you’re huge. I’m sorry,” she apologized, blushing. “I wasn’t expecting you’re overall…giantness… when I looked back.”

“And I’m supposed to work with this woman?” McKay demanded. “Shouldn’t you be at the mall or something?” he asked Brady.

“Ok, Mr. Condescension,” Brady said with a slight frown. “Yes, I’m younger than the average member of the Brain Trust. However, need I remind you that while you were off being all sciency in the Great White North—before you even knew the SGC _existed_—I was deciphering alien texts to help battle the Goa’uld. I’ve been studying language samples that Dr. Weir sent back to the SGC from some of the planets you guys have been to. Oh, and I’ve been tutored in Ancient by _Dr_. Jackson,” she said, stressing the title. “So I am very well versed in that subject as well.”

“And, if I remember correctly, you aren’t,” Sheppard said to McKay.

Rodney shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes, well...as long as she stays out of my lab, I don’t see that we will have a problem.”

“It makes him feel better to pretend to have some control over the personnel,” Beckett whispered.

“Brady, I’ve got a list of texts you can start with,” Weir said, standing and gathering her things. “Now that you’re acquainted with everyone, Teyla will show you around. Welcome to the team.”

“One more nerd to babysit off-world,” Ronon grumbled as they shuffled out of the meeting room.

“Where’d you learn ‘nerd’?” Sheppard asked as he passed.

“Cadman calls McKay that all the time. She said it is nicer than what she could call him.”

“Eh...still, people don’t really like being called nerds. It makes them feel bad,” Sheppard explained.

Ronon shrugged unrepentantly.

“Technically it isn’t a bad label,” Brady said, having overheard the discussion. “I mean, the definition of nerd is an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a nonsocial hobby or pursuit. So actually it is a pretty fitting description. For me, anyway.”

“You do not care that a complete stranger just insulted you?” Teyla asked.

“Well...not really, no. I’m sorta used to it.”

Ronon looked over his shoulder at her and grunted, obviously not finding it hard to believe. Brady smiled.

“Anyway, big guy, I won’t be needing a babysitter. I’ve got lots of field experience.”

Ronon stopped and turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ever been in a forest so thick you can’t see anything around you, being chased by creatures that want to stick you in a cocoon and suck the life force out of you with their hand?”

“Um...no. I haven’t,” she admitted. “But I’ve been in a forest so thick I couldn’t see anything around me, being chased by Jaffa who wanted to kill and revive me over and over, and eventually put a snake in my brain.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Ronon said.

“But it’s still not a fun time,” Brady countered.

Ronon opened his mouth to speak, but instead cast a quick glance at Sheppard and turned on his heel, heading toward the gym.

Brady chewed on her bottom lip as she watched the warrior stride away.

“Well ladies, looks like this is where we part ways,” Sheppard said. “Enjoy the tour. See you at dinner.”

“Do not let Ronon’s hostility intimidate you,” Teyla said as she led Brady down the corridor. “He doesn’t dislike you.”

“What makes you say that?” Brady asked.

“He did not stun you,” Teyla replied with a smile. Brady chuckled nervously.

“The members of the Alpha team are good people. Some are more...difficult than others, but they have good hearts,” Teyla said. She paused and eyed Brady carefully before nodding. “You will fit in well.”


	2. Maintaining Focus

####  MAINTAINING FOCUS February 2006

Ronon walked down the corridor toward his quarters. He was covered in sweat and dirt, and he longed for a shower.

Blessed be the Earth people for being sticklers for hygiene.

He passed a door that was slightly ajar and paused in his steps. Brows furrowing, he stepped to it and peered through the crack.

The language girl—Brady—stood in the middle of the tiny office. She had pushed the cluttered desk to the wall and stood in the center of the room with her arms raised over her head. She slowly kicked one leg forward, bringing her arms down. Planting her foot, she pivoted to the side, gently bringing her arms around and pushing her palms away from her.

Ronon flipped the switch that opened the door the rest of the way, assuming that the thin white cords that ran from her ears to the small blue square on her lapel obscured her hearing. She continued her slow, enchanting dance and he leaned against the door.

She pushed her leg, dragging her toes in a circle and pivoting around slowly.

“SHIT!”

Ronon smiled as the girl flinched and thumped a hand to her chest.

“Sorry,” he said, though his tone was totally unapologetic.

“What are you doing skulking around here?” Brady demanded as she removed her earbuds.

“Just on my way to my quarters and saw your door open. What were you doing there?” he asked, moving his finger in a circle.

“Harnessing my chi,” Brady said, tossing her music player onto the desk.

“What?”

“It’s an Earth thing. My Tai Chi instructor said it would allow me to focus my attention and finish things.”

“Does it work?” Ronon asked, crossing his arms.

“I dunno. I only went to one class,” Brady said with a smile.

Ronon strode forward lazily, fingering through books and papers.

“Did you need something else?” Brady asked, taking a stack of papers from him.

“No,” Ronon said, looking at her. He stepped closer, watching her face.

Her jaw clenched defiantly as he purposely invaded her space. He barely restrained a chuckle as her brown eyes narrowed and she turned her face up to him, standing her ground as if a hurricane could not move her.

Ronon turned to the desk, hiding his smile from her as he picked up a book and thumbed through it.

“Would you stop that?” she demanded, snatching the book away. “You’re jacking up my system.”

“System?” he repeated disbelievingly. “How can you find anything on that desk?”

“I know exactly where everything is. I know what I’ve read, what I’ve translated, and what I’m still working on because there are too many components to go through without going completely insane.”

“Ah. You’re stuck on something, aren’t you?”

“I’m not stuck,” Brady said. “I just...I have a lot of energy that I need to burn so I can focus.”

Ronon’s eyebrow flicked up and he gave her a crooked grin. “I’ve got just the thing.”

Shower forgotten, he turned and walked from the office. When Brady didn’t immediately follow, he stuck his head back in the door and waved her on.

“This isn’t going to involve nakedness of any kind, right?”

“I guess that just depends on what you like,” he replied, opening the door.

“Oh,” Brady said as she recognized the layout for a training room.

Ronon tossed her a pair of sticks and walked to the center of the mat.

“So essentially you want me to stop doing my valuable work and instead...hit you with these sticks?”

“It’ll help you focus better than that slow stuff you were doing.”

She twirled a stick and watched him uncertainly.

“I thought you said you knew how to fight,” Ronon goaded.

“I do know how to fight,” she replied. “I just have never been good at fake fighting.”

“So don’t fake it,” he said, taking a stance. “Gimme your best shot.”

Brady sighed and crossed her sticks. Lunging forward, she swung at Ronon’s thigh. He blocked it effortlessly.

“That’s your best?”

Brady shrugged. “I can’t fight believably if there’s no threat.”

Ronon straightened, the corners of his mouth curving in a way that had Brady swallowing nervously.

_Me and my big mouth_, she thought.

She watched as he moved off the mat and drew a long staff from the mount on the wall. He walked back to the middle of the floor and twirled the staff, first over his head and then on either side of his body, switching hands smoothly.

He began to circle her—the predator and his prey.

“Consider yourself threatened,” he said, baring his teeth as he continued to circle her. “If I move in for a strike, I will strike hard. You will feel pain.”

“Um...I think I’m focused enough. I really should get back to work. It’s been fun and all, but—“

He lunged and swung his staff at her torso, so she crossed her sticks and blocked it, pushing his staff away with a grunt. Again and again he attacked, but she blocked each one. So it went until she was sweaty and panting.

She moved on the mat rotating in time with him, step for step. She skipped forward and swung at his chest with her right hand, striking at his thigh with her left at the same time. He blocked the chest shot with his hand but his staff was too slow to block at his thigh, so she got in the hit.

He went down to one knee and she knocked him to his back.

“Ready to call it a day?” Brady asked, kneeling over him with a grin.

Ronon smiled and gripped her ankles, pulling her feet out from under her. She landed with a grunt as he rolled her back and pinned her hands in one of his. He barred her throat between his forearm and the floor. She kicked and struggled beneath him, but he just pressed harder on her throat.

“_Now_ we can call it a day,” he growled with a wicked grin.

Brady laughed and closed her eyes as her body went lax, all fight gone from her. She lowered her feet to the floor with her knees still bent, no longer trying to kick Ronon away from her. She lay on the floor, taking deep breaths as she let her heart rate slow.

She heard the doors slide open and opened her eyes as Ronon rolled off her. Major Lorne stood in the doorway looking embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t know this room was being...used,” he said, swiping the door closed again.

Brady laughed again and Ronon held his hand down to her to help her to her feet.

“Dear Lord,” she groaned good-naturedly, rubbing her lower back. “So tell the truth. Were you holding back a lot?”

“Off and on. You would have actually taken me down there at the end if you hadn’t been so hellbent on talking.”

“It’s a curse,” she said, grinning.

Ronon felt his lips quirk in response before clearing his throat and returning the weapons to their proper places.

“You should work on keeping your mouth shut. You’ll live longer that way,” he said.

“I’ll try to work on that,” she replied, opening the doors. “I better get back to the office. Later, Ronon.”


	3. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode alert! Brady is inserted into an episode, so some of the dialogue is from the show. I try to keep her in "off screen" action as much as possible so it's not just a transcript.

** THE TOWER **

Feb 2006

Brady looked around in wide-eyed wonderment. The planet was like many she’d visited in the Milky Way, but this was her first off-world trip in Pegasus, so she was pretty stoked. She’d been granted access to go to this planet with Alpha team because it appeared to be an agrarian society similar those found in early Europe, which meant they would potentially need a translator.

Although, she thought as she cut her eyes toward the rest of the team, if McKay’s bitching was any indication, they wouldn’t be around long enough to need her services.

“Right,” he was saying, “but do we need to make friends with every primitive agrarian society in the Pegasus Galaxy?”

“You never know when you’ll need friends, McKay,” Brady said, leaning against the wall of the hut. “In times of crisis, sometimes it’s better to have numbers over technology.”

“Well this isn’t a time of crisis,” McKay sniped.

“Alright,” Sheppard said, emerging from the hut. “That’s enough. They can’t all be planets with cool technology and open-minded women.” He cut a piece off a vegetable he’d brought out with him and sniffed it.

Brady wrinkled her nose. “Is that like a space turnip?”

A man approached, the contact for the village, before Sheppard could answer. “Greetings. I am Eldred.”

Sheppard stepped forward. “I’m Sheppard. This is Ronon, Teyla, Brady, and McKay.”

Brady smiled pleasantly in greeting, but it was ignored as the man nervously surveyed the village. “He seem twitchy to you?” she whispered to Ronon. The giant flicked his gaze to her and nodded once, hand going to his stunner.

“Stay close, doc,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but it’s harvest time and we must prepare our tribute for the Tower.”

“The Tower?” Sheppard asked.

“You must come from a distant land indeed if you have not heard of the Tower.” He shook his head. “I don’t know of anyone who is not under its protection.”

“Protection?” Brady asked.

Teyla frowned. “Protection from what?”

Eldred looked at them like they were stupid. “The Wraith.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Brady muttered. Rodney just rolled his eyes.

“Is this Tower close by?” Sheppard asked.

“I will show you,” Eldred said. “Come.”

Sheppard passed his space turnip to Ronon, who examined it before tossing it over to Brady. She sniffed it and touched the tip of her tongue to it, pulling back at the acidic twang.

“Gross, man.”

The team trudged after Eldred, who led them along a beaten path through the woods. Brady swatted at a swarm of gnats circling around her head. She shook her head, catching glimpse of something a few yards off the path. The others were moving slowly, so she hopped into the weeds and pushed aside a lush bush, gasping when she caught sight of ruins of a formation of standing stones. She let out a small squeal and bounded over to the stones, fingers flying over the runes and pictograms that dotted the smooth surface.

“Awesome,” she said, sing-song. She pulled a paper and a block of charcoal from her pack and took a few rubbings, humming happily to herself. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand closed over her arm.

“Easy, language girl,” Ronon said. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Stay with the group. Don’t go off on your own.” He gave her a light shove back toward the path. “That’s how you get killed.”

“Sorry. I mean, this is sort of what I’m here for though. And-and you do know that I can, like, take care of myself, right? Like I’m trained in tactical—”

“Don’t care,” he interrupted, sliding past her and stepping back onto the path. His long legs ate up the distance between them and the rest of the group.

“Jackass,” she said beneath her breath as she hurried to catch up.

“There,” Eldred said, pointing into the distance.

Brady gaped. “What…”

“Is it my imagination,” Sheppard said, “or does that look a lot like—”

“The central spire of Atlantis,” Teyla said.

“Yeah.” 

Brady examined the Tower through her binos. “So that’s significant, right? That means this planet has Lantean ties.”

“We must get back,” Eldred said.

“What are you scared of?” Brady asked, eying him.

“The Lord Protector sees all,” the older man replied. “It is harvest day and I am not working.”

“Come,” Teyla said with a smile, cutting a reproachful look at Brady. “We will return to the village.”

“I mean, am I wrong?” Brady whispered to Ronon as she fell into step beside him. “This guy is downright scared of something.”

“Or someone,” Ronon added. “Keep your eyes open.”

“I’ve been on missions before,” she reminded him. He grunted, then remained silent.

The team chatted with Eldred as they walked through the village, but Brady was surveying the area and not paying much attention to the conversation. The villagers were anxious, gathering load after load of produce and putting it into a large wagon. She didn’t realize the others had stopped walking until she ran into McKay’s back. He threw her a sneer, then turned away again.

“Thousands of bright lights,” Sheppard was saying, and Eldred nodded.

“And you have seen this?” Teyla asked.

“I have never seen a Wraith ship—they have not come for many generations—but there are times that the Lord Protector sees fit to demonstrate this power to his people,” he said hesitantly.

He had Sheppard’s undivided attention. “We’d really like to meet this…Lord Protector.”

“That may prove difficult,” Eldred said. “Only members of the royal court are allowed in the Tower. But I’ll do what I can.” With a nod, he left them and returned to his work.

The team huddled up.

“You know this weapon he’s talking about?” Ronon asked.

Brady frowned. “Weapon? What weapon?”

“Maybe you should pay attention when the grown-ups are speaking,” McKay said.

“We call ‘em drones,” Sheppard told Ronon. “We’ve used ‘em to defend Earth and Atlantis, but we could really use some more.”

“And not only that,” McKay said. “If these people have working drones, they must also have a ZPM. I’ll know more if I can get a little closer, take some readings.”

“Should I come with you?” Brady asked. As unappealing as the idea of being alone in the woods with Rodney was, she wanted to explore, see if there were more standing stones.

“No,” McKay said. “I’ll need a guide from the village, but it’s not a two-man job.”

“I need to make a call,” Sheppard said, heading in the direction of where they’d parked the jumper.

Brady looked at Teyla and Ronon. “Looks like I’m with you guys.”

Ronon sighed. “Great.”

\--

“Well…this can’t be good,” Brady said later, watching Eldred frantically explain something to a group of men dressed in military uniform.

“I do not like this,” Teyla said.

Brady noticed Ronon’s hand rested on his pistol, though he didn’t say anything that hinted at his opinion.

“Who are these guys?” Sheppard asked as he approached them.

“Soldiers from the Tower,” Ronon said.

The soldier in charge chose that moment to backhand Eldred, knocking him to the ground.

“Hey!” Brady called, rushing toward the fallen man. The others moved with her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sheppard said. “Take it easy.”

The leader turned to them, his cold eyes blazing at being interrupted. “Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Who are you?”

The man lifted his chin as if no one had ever had to ask before. “I am Constable of the Lord Protector’s guard,” he said. “And this village scum dared to defy me.” He looked back at Eldred with sadistic glee. “It’s clear we’re going to have to make an example.”

He took a whip from his belt and unfurled it. The team drew their weapons as one. A corner of her mouth lifted at the synchronization.

“I don’t think so,” Sheppard said.

Eldred curled in on himself a bit more. “Please, Colonel. It’s my fault.”

“Doubt it,” Brady said, locking eyes with the constable and holding her gun steadily pointed at his nose.

“If you think I’m gonna sit here and let you whip an innocent man, you’re sorely mistaken,” Sheppard said.

“Constable.”

Brady didn’t move, but Sheppard whirled to face the newcomer. Ronon put his back to Sheppard’s, and Teyla closed ranks a bit more. Brady risked a glance over her shoulder, caught a quick sight of a bald man who was much cleaner than anyone in the village.

“You may stand down,” the newcomer said.

Brady relaxed a little when the soldiers did as they were told and lowered her gun, though she kept it in hand. The constable’s expression swore vengeance as he glowered at her, but hey, what else was new?

The new man-in-charge approached slowly. “You are the strangers who requested an audience, are you not?” He took two small devices from his pocket, holding them up to let them know he was no threat. Brady recognized them—bio scanners. “My name is Otho,” he said, slowly stretching the scanner toward Teyla. “I have the honor to be Chamberlain to the Lord Protector.” He scanned Ronon next. “And you would never be allowed in his presence so armed.” His vibrant blue eyes were glued to his display module as he scanned Brady, then moved on to Sheppard.

“Well,” Sheppard said. “Guess we’ll have to be on our way then.”

The scanner chirped, and Otho looked surprised. He raised his eyes to Sheppard and gave a soft smile. “Oh, I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Take this one,” he said, taking a step back and waving at Sheppard.

Like a switch was flipped, the team readied for battle again—Brady and Teyla lifted their guns, and Ronon drew his sword from the scabbard strapped to his back. The sword itself scared the hell out of Brady, much less having to face the fierce giant who wielded it. If she’d been one of the constable’s men, she’d have noped her way right out of the fight.

Eldred was hauled roughly to his feet. “Please, Colonel. Don’t resist. The Lord Protector sees all.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Brady said.

“Oh, he does, you know,” Otho said. Everyone kept their weapons up. “I suppose you’re going to need a demonstration.” He glanced up. “And here it comes.”

There was a soft whooshing on the wind, and Brady lifted her eyes to where the others were looking. “Oh, shit.”

The drone smashed into the harvest cart, exploding and spreading burning debris over a good portion of the village. Villagers screamed in terror and fell to their knees or ran for cover.

“Now, please,” Otho said, turning back to them. “Turn over your weapons. Some of the people here may not survive the next strike.”

He spoke earnestly, almost pleading with Sheppard. After a moment’s hesitation, Sheppard lowered his pistol. He nodded to the rest of the team, and they reluctantly passed over their weapons.

“Is that all?” the constable asked as he snatched Brady’s gun.

“Yeah. I pack light.”

“Perhaps we should check,” he said, leaning close to her ear.

He nodded toward the others and his men patted them down, removing several knives from Ronon’s person. The constable frisked Brady, paying special attention to her hips and butt. When he found no other weapons, he took Ronon’s sword with a look of smug triumph.

“Now we can all be friends,” Brady said with a chilly smile. She, Teyla, and Ronon stood by while Otho and the guards led Sheppard away.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Sheppard whispered to Ronon as he passed. He glanced at Brady, arched a brow. “You either, new kid. I’ve read your file.”

“Yes, sir,” Brady muttered. “Should somebody contact Weir?”

Sheppard shook his head. “Not yet. We need to check out this tower, and Rodney needs to get his intel on the ZPM. This is just the distraction we needed,” he said.

“Oh, good,” Brady said. “For a minute I was worried we were completely blindsided by all this and had no plan.”

Sheppard shrugged. “You get used to it.”

\--

Rodney had returned and Teyla was filling him in on the day’s excitement, but Brady and Ronon were helping the villagers put out small fires for most of the afternoon. Luckily, no buildings or homes had caught up from the debris, but all the food the people had been storing on the wagon was destroyed.

Sheppard had checked in via radio a little earlier, had talked with Rodney about his scans. Apparently the Tower was virtually identical to Atlantis, which was exciting…if you knew why it mattered. Brady hadn’t been on the expedition long, so she was still a little sketchy as to why it was so important, but hoped to be filled in at some point.

McKay and Sheppard were in deep conversation on their headsets, and she tried to keep up as much as possible.

“One thing’s for certain,” Sheppard said. “These people are no Ancients.”

“Well, the feudal lord and lady schtick was sort of a giveaway there,” Brady said.

“The Lord Protector must have the gene required to activate the advanced technology,” McKay said. “Are they using any other technology?”

“No, not that I can see,” Sheppard said. “They’ve turned the control room into a gallery for royal audiences. Some systems seem to be operational, but I think they’re just running on automatic.”

“Are you certain you are in no immediate danger?” Teyla asked, brow creasing with concern.

“I don’t think so. They don’t have me under guard, and they’ve even given me my own room.”

Brady snorted. “Cozy. Still, they didn’t really make the best first impression, you know? I don’t like it.”

“Me either,” Ronon said. “I say we call the troops and get you out.”

“For the moment, I don’t anybody to do anything. Just keep a low profile.”

Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Brady all looked at each other with similar expressions. _This is a terrible idea_, they all said.

“I mean it,” Sheppard insisted.

McKay sighed. “All right.”

“Just let us know if you change your mind,” Brady added. They closed comms and looked around. “So what do we do now?”

“We wait. We stay here, stay out of trouble, until Sheppard gets back with us,” McKay said.

Brady grimaced and picked up her discarded pack. “I don’t really wait gracefully, so I’m going to go back to those stones while there’s still some sunlight left,” she said. “It’ll give me something to do, maybe shed some light on the history of the people here.”

“You should not wander alone,” Teyla said. She cast a pointed look at Ronon, who held her intent gaze.

“I’m fine by myself,” Brady said. “I remember the way to the stones and back.”

After a moment, the giant sighed. “Fine. I’ll go with her.”

“Look, you really don’t have—”

“Come on,” he said, walking away.

She looked at Teyla. “Did I do something to him that I don’t know about? Offend his ancestors or something?”

“Ronon does not wait gracefully either,” Teyla said. “Going with you will keep him distracted as well.”

“So he thinks you’re pushing me off on him, when really you’re pushing him off on me.” When Teyla only smiled, Brady nodded. “Uh huh. I see how you are.”

\--

As night began to fall, Brady and Ronon made their way back to the village. Eldred had offered the team food and shelter for the night, and by the time they got to his home, dinner was prepared. Brady looked at the meager offerings and felt a surge of sympathy for the villagers. As Eldred prayed over the food, he thanked the Lord Protector, and it was all she could do not to argue. She met Teyla’s eyes as they began eating and could tell she felt the same.

“It is generous of you to remember the Lord Protector in your prayers,” Teyla said. “Especially after what happened this afternoon.”

“The guy with the whip seemed like a real piece of work,” Brady added.

“It is unfortunate,” Eldred said. “But the soldiers serve the Tower and without the Tower we are vulnerable to the Wraith.”

Brady frowned and shook her head. “So they run roughshod over the village?”

“They carry out the will of the Lord Protector,” Eldred said quietly.

“In exchange for his protection, you give them a portion of your crops?” Ronon asked.

Eldred’s eyes went distant. “Half of every harvest.”

“Half?” Teyla asked. She looked at the others.

Brady’s eyebrows flew up. There was no way the villagers could afford to give away so much food, good harvest or not. She’d seen places like this a dozen times in her off-world trips at the SGC—poor, broken people forced into servitude by someone or something who had convinced them of their nobility or divinity. “What about the food he destroyed today?”

“It will be replaced tomorrow with the best of our harvest,” Petra said. “We have stores…in case of hard winters. We will rebuild the Lord Protector’s portion.”

Brady glanced at her companions, but kept her mouth shut. There was no need borrowing trouble if it could be avoided.

Especially without knowing what was going on with Sheppard.

When the meal was finished, Petra and Baldric cleared the table and left them alone.

“Well,” McKay said. “That was a particularly unsatisfying meal.”

“Don’t be a dick, McKay,” Brady muttered.

“We should be honored that those with so little would wish to share with us,” Teyla said.

McKay nodded. “No, I’m honored. I’m honored and hungry. Seriously, we should be feeding them. We’ve got better food in our emergency rations.”

Teyla sighed. “I’m not sure that they would accept it. They are a proud people.”

“Too proud to accept help from outsiders,” Brady agreed.

“Not so proud that they’ll stand up for themselves,” Ronon said.

“That could change,” Teyla said, arching a brow.

Brady grinned. “Call out the instigator,” she sang softly, bouncing to the beat. “Because there’s something in the air.”

“Whoa, whoa,” McKay chanted. “Hold on a minute. We need to be careful, right? We have no idea who’s watching, remember? And we are supposed to be keeping a low profile, not—” He waved a hand toward Brady. “—starting a revolution.”

“You cannot seriously believe that this is a just society?” Teyla demanded.

McKay pointed a finger. “It is a society that has not been culled by the Wraith in a long time. That much we know for sure.”

Teyla and Ronon looked at each other, settled back in their seats. A smile still flirted around Brady’s lips and she started humming “Something in the Air” again. She looked at Rodney.

“Because a revolution’s near,” she sang. His scowl deepened. “And you know it’s right...”

McKay huffed and stood. “Where are the emergency rations?”

\--

Brady had just settled in the tiny bedroom she’d been given, stripping out of her uniform jacket and untucking her tank top. She sat on the edge of the straw tick and untied her boots, toeing out of them with a heartfelt sigh. She leaned back onto the lumpy mattress, then sat up, reaching beneath her tank and removing a small, flat blade in its sheath.

“I thought the soldiers took all your weapons,” Ronon said from the open doorway.

Brady snorted and leaned back again, tucking the knife into a cargo pocket on her pants. “One to find, one to keep. Everybody knows that.”

Ronon’s brows twitched in acknowledgment. He unfurled a bedroll and stretched out on the other side of the room, in front of the door.

“What’re you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“No, I mean what are you doing in here? Eldred said there are four rooms in this hut.”

“An unattached female shouldn’t sleep alone on an unfamiliar planet. It’s dangerous.”

Brady squawked and sat up, goggling at him. “Teyla’s an unattached female,” she pointed out.

“Teyla can take care of herself,” he said, not bothering to open his eyes.

“_I_ can take care of _myself_, you backwater Neanderthal! Just who do you think—” She broke off when he grinned, then she sighed. “What are you really doing here?”

“Sheppard wants us all to stick together,” he said easily. “Of the four of us, you’re the only one I’m worried about staying out of trouble.”

“Ha. That’s rich.”

One brow arched and he peeked an eye open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just think it’s funny that you, O Tall One, have the gumption to assume I’m more likely to get into trouble than any of you guys are.” She plopped back onto the tick and stacked her hands behind her head. “You guys are constantly getting into scrapes. You’re impulsive, and word around the water cooler is it’s bitten the team in the ass a time or two. Sheppard almost got turned into some bug a couple months before I got here, McKay nearly drowned in a sinking jumper like two weeks ago, and Teyla…well, so far, near as I can tell, Teyla’s pretty much the least likely to get into trouble.”

“You attract trouble like flies to water, language girl. And not just when you go off-world.”

“Pfft. First of all, I don’t know if that fly thing is actually a saying,” she said. “Secondly, I know I’ve done things to screw up, but I own my mistakes. I had a three-year learning experience when I first started at SGC, and I almost ended up _under_ the jail a time or six. So you can’t tell me nothing about me that I don’t already know.” Her smile slipped, and her brows furrowed. “How do you know about that stuff?”

“Your file was on Sheppard’s desk.”

“Huh. Still, having read my file—which is illegal, by the way—you should be fully briefed on the extent of my weapons and combat training, which means that you really don’t have to sleep in here.”

“I’m down here now,” he said. “Go to sleep.”

Brady huffed and rolled onto her side, facing the wall. “You’d better not snore.”

She wasn’t sure, but as she closed her eyes she thought she heard a deep, quiet chuckle.

\--

Brady woke as soon as the sun filtered through the dirty porthole window. She dressed and carefully stepped around Ronon’s sleeping form, then loaded her pack and headed outside.

Teyla was already up, holding conversation with Eldred’s wife. She smiled as Brady approached, still fiddling with her headset radio.

“You are awake early,” Teyla said.

“I have that whole kid-at-Christmas vibe going. The stones,” she explained. “The symbols have an almost Insular Celtic feel about them. I’d love to get another look. And Petra said there were more, another set, about two miles east. So I’m gonna…” She pointed over her shoulder. “Have you heard from Sheppard?”

“He radioed in earlier. Carson will be arriving soon.”

“Carson? Why? Everything okay?”

Teyla tilted her head, cutting her eyes at Eldred’s wife. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Brady nodded, letting her know she understood—even though she kind of didn’t. But the other woman hadn’t seemed upset, which meant Sheppard wasn’t in need of medical attention, which meant she could go out for the day if she wanted.

“I’ll have my radio on if you need me.”

“Be careful,” Teyla said quietly.

\--

Brady hummed to herself as she walked back to the village, a grin on her face. She’d gotten three pages of rubbings from the second set of stones. Two of the symbols were exact replicas of images found on stones in Scotland and Cornwall, which further solidified the evidence that there were direct connections between galaxies.

Her grin faltered as she entered the village and saw the constable and his soldiers circling the tribute wagon. She ducked into the team’s hut and dumped her bag with a sigh.

“Hey guys?” she called. “Those douchey guards are back.” She wandered outside, tucking her hands into her pockets. Ronon and Teyla hovered in the doorway next to her, watching the soldiers pilfer through the wagon.

The constable picked up a vegetable and examined it for a moment, then tossed it back on the cart. Brady edged closer.

“You call this a harvest?” the constable demanded. “I bring this pathetic tribute to the Lord Protector and I’ll be whipped for my insolence.”

“He probably should’ve thought of that before he torched everything yesterday,” Brady said, crossing her arms. She moved to stand next to Petra, who was clearly anxious.

“You again.”

She smiled at him, baring her teeth. “Yep, it’s me.”

“This is all we could spare,” Petra said.

The constable leered. “Well, then, maybe there’s something besides food that you can offer.” He reached out and snatched her wrist.

“Like hell.” Brady shoved him, but he held firm as Petra struggled to free herself.

Brady’s fingers closed over the small blade in her pocket and she flicked the sheath lock with her thumb, but before she could draw it, another guard seized her from behind, locking her arms to her sides. She lifted her feet, trying to throw the guard off balance.

The constable looked at her, cocking his head. “You have an impudent tongue,” he said, drawing a long knife from his belt. “I think I’ll remove it.”

“Better men than you have tried to shut me up,” Brady said.

“Hey.”

The constable turned to see Ronon approach. He released Petra, who fell to the ground. The rest of the guards drew their own knives.

“Ah, the guard dog,” the constable said. “Come to meddle?”

“Ronon…” Brady said, tone wary.

“Let’s see how you do against someone who can defend himself,” Ronon said. His eyes darted, no doubt noticing how the rest of the guard had circled around him. He whirled and punched the guard behind him, sending him sprawling.

Brady took the opportunity to slam her head into the face of the man holding her. He released her with a cry of pain, hands going to cover his bloody nose. She kicked him in the stomach, and he fell to his knees. She pulled her small knife and loosed it, the blade burying cleanly into the hand of the guard about to attack Ronon’s back.

Ronon grappled with a guard, taking him down to the ground and twisting his wrist, relieving him of his weapon. He turned and faced the constable.

Brady stood with her foot on the stomach of a nearby guard, keeping him down. She saw the constable tense, readying to charge Ronon, and called out to him.

Ronon sidestepped, easily avoiding the constable’s rage-fuelled attack, and slashed his confiscated blade across the throat. Brady gasped and flinched back as blood splashed over her cheek.

The constable collapsed to his knees, then fell onto his face in the dirt. Ronon didn’t look back, but stood with shoulders heaving, panting, and glaring at Brady.

“Oh…oh shit. Oh, this isn’t good,” she whispered. She raised her gaze to his, eyes wide.

The villagers looked on, and a hushed, frightened murmur rose from the crowd. Teyla walked over to Brady and Ronon, her features drawn in concern. She touched her radio.

“Colonel Sheppard?”

A buzz of static, then Sheppard’s voice. “Go ahead.”

“We have a problem in the village,” Teyla said. “There has been an…altercation.”

Sheppard sighed. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and guess that it didn’t end in a dance-off.”

“It did not.”

“We’ll deal with it later. For now, keep it as buttoned up as possible. Things here aren’t…great.”

When the transmission ended, the villagers set about cleaning up the mess the fight had caused. Brady looked at Ronon.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Well, I mean…you just killed a guy.”

He turned to walk away. “Killed a lot of guys before.”

She hurried after him. “Well, sure. Doesn’t make it any easier on you, though.”

“What do you want?” he asked, stopping and frowning down at her. He wiped the back of one big hand on her cheek, smearing the drops of drying blood.

“Nothing.” She scowled and scrubbed at her cheek with her sleeve. “I was just making sure you weren’t going to go have some kind of guilt-ridden breakdown in the woods or something. But now I don’t give a damn if you do, so…” She shrugged and turned on her heel, striding away with her chin high.

\--

When the guards had been tended to or regained consciousness, the villagers escorted them out of town, along with a stretcher that toted the constable’s body. Eldred, understandably, was in a tizzy. Brady wasn’t feeling much calmer, considering the last few attempts to raise Sheppard on the radio had failed.

“You should not have killed the constable,” Eldred said.

Brady watched him, taking a subtle step back. He looked like he was going to throw up, and she’d already been caught in the backsplash of one stranger’s bodily fluids today. She had no desire to catch another.

“Somebody had to do something,” Ronon said.

“He was hurting Petra,” Brady added. “Ronon intervened and it escalated, but it was the constable who attacked first. He just defended himself.”

Eldred shook his head. “More soldiers will come.”

“Then stand up to them,” Teyla said. “Gather your people together and fight.”

“And if the Lord Protector uses the Throne Chair?” Eldred asked. “What then?”

“We’ll deal with that,” Ronon said.

Petra stepped forward. “What’s done is done, Eldred.” She rested a hand on Brady’s shoulder. “They defended me, and in doing so, defied the Lord Protector. He will take his revenge, and if we’re going to die, I would rather die fighting.”

Brady smiled. “I mean, I’d rather _not_ die, but fighting for a good cause is sort of my niche, so…”

The team’s radios crackled and McKay’s voice came through with heavy static, and they dismissed themselves from the villagers’ discussion.

“Rodney,” Teyla said. “Where have you been?”

“Where have I been?” he repeated. “I have been trapped underground by an earthquake that blocked off our one exit from this section of the city, that’s where I’ve been!”

“Do you have access to the ZPM?” Teyla asked.

“No, I don’t have access to the ZPM,” he said. “But thank you for your concern, by the way.”

“Rodney—”

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” he continued. “Your beloved friend has nearly died, and while he has had to face the imminent threat of death, your first concern is for the ZPM. It’s only natural”

“McKay, shut up for a second,” Brady said. “Stuff’s happened.”

“Stuff? Care to elaborate on that, child wonder?”

She rolled her eyes at Teyla, who resumed communication. “I am sorry, Rodney, but we have a few problems of our own. Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Beckett are no longer responding to our radio calls. As well, there is a good possibility that the Lord Protector is about to launch a drone attack on this village. If that happens, everyone here will die.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t suppose you have anything helpful to recommend?” Brady asked.

“Well,” McKay drawled. “I…give me a minute.”

“McKay? McKay!” Brady threw up her hands. “Did he just bail?”

“He will do all he can,” Teyla said.

Brady chewed her cheek and looked around. “We should evacuate the village.”

“The chair provides visuals,” Ronon said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. He’d find them.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t they have a better chance in the forest? At least the canopy might take some of the drones. I mean, we can’t just let them get blown up.”

A woman cried out, drawing their attention. The sound of drones reached Brady, and the soft whooshing had her stomach dropping to her feet. Dozens of drones headed straight for them, blazing like fireflies. She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, and waited for death.

\--

“We didn’t die,” Brady said, grinning as she stepped through the event horizon. She continued chatting as the team hit the gateroom. “It was a little touch and go there for a minute, maybe, but nobody died—or even got wounded, which is also something to consider. It might not’ve gone as planned, but I’d say the mission was a success, right?”

Four sets of eyes locked on her, all with varying degrees of criticism. She lifted her hands and backed away.

“All right, all right. I’m going back to my lab. I’ve got work to do anyway. But, hey,” she added, pointing at Sheppard. “You need a fifth member, I’ll totally go anytime you need me. You guys don’t suck.”


	4. Restless

** _ RESTLESS  _ ** _ June 2006_

“Every time I see you, that cute little nose of yours is stuck in a book.”

Brady smiled as Sheppard took a seat next to her. She slid her empty tray closer to her, giving him more room.

She set her book aside and picked up her drink. “So what’s crackin’ with Alpha team? When am I gonna get another chance to go off-world?”

“Restless?”

“Well, it’s not that I’m not still fascinated by this place after all these months but…yes. Maybe a little,” she admitted with a small wince. “It’s just…I’m used to being in the thick of things more often, ya know?”

“I know. And you’re in luck. How’d you like to go with us on our next mission?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s just recon, but it’ll give you a change of scenery for a spell. We leave at 0300.”

“Sweet.”

\--

“Wow, you’re recon missions are way more intense than the ones I’m used to,” Brady shouted over the gunfire. She drew back against the short wall and reloaded her weapon. “I’m running low on ammo.”

“Try hitting the enemy once in a while.”

Brady scowled at the voice on the headset. “Thank you, Ronon. That’s so helpful.”

“Children, can we focus?” Sheppard said.

Brady rose up on her knees and fired off three rounds, hitting two enemy soldiers. To her right she saw Ronon raise and fire, unaware that another militant was sneaking in from behind. She fired two more shots, dropping the man behind Ronon.

“You’re welcome,” she said into the radio as she ducked back behind the wall.

“Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay and I are pinned down,” Teyla said on the radio.

“You can’t get through to the gate?”

“There are too many soldiers.” Teyla said.

“Yes, apparently the king didn’t appreciate you calling him deceitful,” McKay snipped. “I think he sent every man he had in the palace out to kill us.”

“Well let’s not let him succeed then, shall we?” Sheppard said dryly. “Ronon, you and I will lay down cover fire. Brady, I want you to haul ass to the DHD and get through the gate.”

“You can’t lay down that much fire on limited ammo,” Brady argued.

“Colonel!” Teyla called over the headset. “We are running out of time!”

“Alright, we go together,” Sheppard said. “I’ll take point. Ronon, cover the rear. Brady, you stay between us, watch our 3 and 9.”

“Let’s go,” Ronon said.

They left the cover of the wall and ran across the field toward Teyla and McKay’s position. Brady worked on controlling her fire to conserve her ammunition. She heard Sheppard swear and stumble as he took a hit to the leg.

“Ronon!” she called, gripping Sheppard’s shirt and hauling him to his feet.

“Get to the gate!” Sheppard yelled.

“I got him,” Ronon said, grabbing Sheppard by his pack. “Go!”

Brady ran to the DHD and dialed Atlantis, sending her IDC through. She saw Teyla and McKay running toward the gate. Ronon and Sheppard brought up the rear, but were close enough that they would make it through. She ran through and shouted at the gate tech.

“We’re coming in hot. Get ready to put that shield up!’

Teyla and McKay ran in behind her, doubling over to catch their breath as soon as they were in the gate room. Ronon and Sheppard came through amidst enemy fire. The shield went up and Weir called for a med team as Ronon dumped Sheppard on the floor.

“Way to treat the injured guy,” Brady said, resting her hands on her knees and trying to catch her breath. There was a hitch in her side, probably from the running.

Carson and the medical team swarmed into the gate room.

“It’s alright,” Sheppard said as Beckett helped him onto a gurney. “The bullet just grazed me.”

The team walked toward the infirmary together, but Brady stopped and braced a hand on the wall to support her.

“Brady, are you alright?” Teyla asked, laying a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine,” Brady said, waving Teyla away and straightening. “Just out of shape.”

The world was starting to tilt at a funny angle and the pain in her side was deeper than it had been. A fierce burning streaked up the entire left side of her torso.

“Carson!” Teyla called, struggling with Brady as her knees buckled beneath her.

Beckett ran back and helped Teyla lower Brady to the floor. She was pale and sweating, her jaw clenched against the pain that was slowly spreading through her body.

“Scott, tend to Sheppard’s leg,” Beckett shouted over his shoulder. “Help me get this vest off,” he said to Teyla, pulling at the Velcro straps on Brady’s flack vest. “Dr. Thatcher,” he said, getting her attention. “Brady, dear, look at me. Talk to me. Where’s it hurt?”

“Left side,” Brady said between clenched teeth. “Back. Near my hip.”

“Roll her over,” Beckett said. He looked over his shoulder as people strayed into the corridor to see what was keeping them. Ronon knelt beside Beckett and pulled Brady’s vest the rest of the way off her body.

“She took a hit,” Beckett said. “Probably one of the strays that came in.” He cursed and shook his head. “There’s no’ an exit wound. Help me get her to the infirmary,” he said to Ronon.

Ronon scooped Brady into his arms and hurried after the doctor.

“Lay her on the gurney. Face down. Easy, now,” Beckett instructed. “Thank you,” he said as Ronon laid her down gently. He cut the back of Brady’s shirt up the middle and began giving orders to the nurses who swarmed the gurney.

“Ronon, we should go apprise Dr. Weir of the situation on Lerita,” Teyla said.

“It can wait,” Ronon said, watching the medical team work on Brady. He took a step to follow as Beckett wheeled the gurney to the surgical station.

Teyla grabbed his arm. “No,” she said. “All you’ll do if you go over there is take up space that Carson could be using to maneuver. We have our own duties. Come,” she said, giving him a look that left no room to argue.

With an aggravated sigh, Ronon followed Teyla to Weir’s office.

\--

“I got the bullet out. Luckily it was just a flesh wound; it missed your organs. I’ve given you some medicine for the post-op pain. If you need anything more, come see me. I’m sure you’ll be sore for a few days, but you’ll be good as new once the stitches come out. But until then, no off-world trips. Same for you,” Beckett said, pointing at Sheppard.

“Come on, doc,” Sheppard protested. “This little scratch can’t keep me—“

“That little scratch was caused by a bullet made from an alien alloy, Colonel,” Beckett said. “Until the stitches are out and I see that there are no residual side effects from the wound, you’re grounded. Sorry son,” he added with a pat on Sheppard’s shoulder.

“Man,” Brady said, wincing as she shifted her legs around to hang over the side of the bed. “That sucks. I mean, I can still get work done but you’re gonna go stir crazy for the next week or so. Sorry, Shep.”

“Hey, do this,” Sheppard said, raising his arms and twisting at the waist.

“Very funny,” Brady said sarcastically.

Sheppard chuckled. “Yeah, I might get a little bored lounging around and sparring. But you’re gonna be so much worse,” he said. “No bending, no stretching...no carrying books.” He grimaced teasingly and shook his head. “Not good, not good. You thought you were restless before...”

Brady’s face fell as the truth of Sheppard’s words hit home. She was going to be practically helpless until Beckett cleared her.

“Well, hell,” she muttered.

“Oh yeah,” Sheppard said, standing. “Big time.”


	5. Sateda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another episode insert. I do not own SGA or the characters, and the dialogue from the show is most definitely not mine. I don't want to get sued. :)

## SATEDA Aug 4, 2006

“Incoming wormhole. It’s Colonel Sheppard’s IDC, ma’am.”

“Lower the shield,” Weir commanded.

Sheppard and Teyla rushed through the event horizon. “Someone get us some vests and guns,” Sheppard snapped.

“We were just about to come get you guys,” Major Rutheford said. “Where’s Ronon?”

“Still back there,” Sheppard said. “Did McKay get through ok?”

“Yeah,” Weir said. “Carson removed the arrow and got him patched up. What happened?”

“Ronon bargained for our lives,” Teyla said as Brady and two Marines arrived, lugging vests and weapons.

“By sticking a knife to his own throat,” Sheppard said. “We’re going back.”

Brady passed over the supplies she’d been carrying. She adjusted her sidearm and tightened the straps on her vest.

“It took us fifteen minutes to get to the gate,” Sheppard said, getting locked and loaded.

“The place could be crawling with Wraith by now,” Teyla said.

“This isn’t an exploratory mission, doc,” Sheppard said to Brady as she stepped onto the platform. “We’re gonna be dealing with Wraith, maybe lots of ‘em. You sure you can handle...”

The expression on Brady’s face had Sheppard nodding resolutely, leaving his sentence unfinished.

Rutheford smiled at Brady’s tenacity. “Let’s go get him.”

\--

“The village was destroyed,” Brady reported as she returned through the gate. “The villagers were dead and Ronon was…gone,” she stumbled over the last word, concern evident on her face.

“He’s alive,” Sheppard said as he ascended the stairs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Beckett said quietly. “I hope he is, but how can you be certain?”

“They made sport out of trying to kill him in the past,” Teyla reminded them.

“You think they’ll make him a Runner again?” Brady asked.

“He was the one that got away,” Sheppard pointed out.

Teyla nodded. “I believe they will try again.”

“That’s bad,” Brady said, shaking her head. “That’s very bad.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard said. “He won’t go down easily.”

“How do we find him?” Weir asked.

“If they make him a Runner again, they’d have to do another implant,” Brady said.

“Rodney, think you can pick up a signal?”

All eyes turned to McKay. “Oh, of course. If it sounds like it might be impossible, you look at me.”

Beckett spoke up. “We still have the tracking device I took out of him before.”

McKay sighed. “We might be able to tune the long-range sensors to pick up any similarly generated subspace transmissions. That’s if they put another device in him,” he added.

“Get it done,” Weir said.

“Colonel,” Brady called as the group separated. She matched his stride as they walked toward the locker room. “I want on this—“

“Nope,” Sheppard said, cutting her off.

“Colonel—“

“Look, Brady,” he said, stopping and facing her. “You’re good at what you do—in the office and in the field. But we don’t know what’s going to come at us on this trip—“

“All the more reason to have me along,” Brady said. “I know I’m not part of Alpha team, Sheppard, but you’re one man down right now. Assuming whatever plan you guys devise includes taking other teams, you’ll still have at least one opening. I need to be in on this.”

Sheppard sighed, but after a moment gave a short nod. “Fine. But I want you to listen up—whatever misconception you have about having to prove yourself to anyone on this expedition, you need to get rid of it. That’s how people get screwed up and distracted. You go on missions with teams here because you are capable, not because they need some Squint to even things out. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Brady nodded.

“Ok. I’ll call you on the radio whenever we get this thing rollin’.”

“Thanks Shep,” Brady said.

“Just outta curiosity, why are you so hellbent on going?” Sheppard asked as Brady turned to go.

“I owe it to Ronon. If you remember, on my first mission out with Alpha he saved my ass in a big, big way.”

“I remember,” Sheppard said. He chewed his bottom lip, an unconscious habit that Brady had noticed at their first meeting, and finally nodded again. “Go on,” he said, inclining his chin. “Keep your radio on.”

“Will do,” Brady replied.

\--

Brady met Teyla in the corridor as they walked toward Weir’s office. Colonel Caldwell had beamed in from the Daedelus moments earlier and was now helping Sheppard formulate a plan.

“So...Sateda, huh?”

Teyla looked at Brady and nodded. “Yes. Rodney believes that is the only viable choice out of the devices transmitting currently. We have been unable to dial Sateda’s Stargate. Either it was destroyed during the war or the Wraith disabled it for this game of theirs.”

“Figures. Like Sheppard said earlier, Ronon’s the one who got away,” Brady said as they ascended the steps. “The Wraith won’t play fair.”

“Neither will Ronon,” Teyla added with a quick grin.

“This is true,” Brady said, opening the door to the conference room.

“—if the Wraith are hunting Ronon,” Caldwell was saying, “then there’s a very good chance that there’s a hive in orbit. I should have to remind you the Daedelus has not done well in its last few engagements with Wraith hive ships.”

“A direct confrontation isn’t necessarily our only option,” Brady said. Caldwell looked a bit put out by her interruption, but McKay drew his attention before he could call her on it.

“We drop out of hyperspace, beam him onboard, and get out of there,” McKay said. “Simple.”

“You know damn well we can’t come out of hyperspace and get close enough to a planet to beam someone off the surface,” Caldwell said heatedly. “We’ll be detected.”

McKay frowned, not liking Caldwell’s disdainful tone.

The older colonel sighed. “Look, you know I want to help, but I will not put my crew and the only ship we have in this galaxy at risk for one man.”

Everyone in the room bristled.

“One man who isn’t a member of the U.S. military,” Sheppard said.

“I didn’t say that!” Caldwell replied, looking affronted.

Sheppard ignored him. “He’s a member of my team and he deserves the same respect as anyone on this expedition.”

“We don’t leave our people behind, Colonel Caldwell,” Brady said.

Caldwell pointed a finger at her. “Don’t preach to me about not leaving people behind, Dr. Thatcher.” He looked at the faces of the other team members and knew he was fighting a losing battle. “I’m just saying it’s a very bad risk/reward situation.”

“Just get us in close,” Sheppard said. “Like Brady said, confrontation isn’t our only option. We’ll take a cloaked Jumper the rest of the way.”

Weir touched her headset. “Carson?”

“Elizabeth.”

“The mission is a go.”

“I’ll go with them,” Beckett said. “Remove the tracking device before we get back on board.”

“We’ll be out of there before the Wraith even know what happened,” Sheppard said.

Caldwell jutted his chin stubbornly but sighed in resignation. “I won’t bail you out if you get in trouble,” he said.

Sheppard faked offense. “You say that as if we’re always getting in trouble,” he said cheekily.

Caldwell looked Sheppard, unimpressed, as a weary father might look at a mischievous child.

“You’ve got ten minutes to get your team assembled,” he said. He clicked his communication device. “This is Caldwell, ready for transport beam.”

With one last look of admonition, the colonel disappeared in a flash of white light.

\--

The journey on the Daedelus was short and uneventful. Brady and Carson chatted comfortably in the mess hall while Rodney ate everything in sight.

“Oh...good God. Try this cookie!” he said, thrusting a piece at Brady. “It’s delicious. It literally melts in your mouth. I wonder if we’d be able to get the cooks from the Daedelus to get assigned to Atlantis...” He sighed appreciatively as he popped the rest of his snack into his mouth.

An announcement came over the loudspeaker, interrupting the relaxed atmosphere of the trip.

“This is Caldwell. I need the Atlantis team to get to the Jumper and await my command to disembark.”

Brady’s mind wandered as she sat on the Puddle Jumper and idly listened to Beckett and McKay bicker back and forth. The Wraith had turned Ronon back into a Runner, of that much she was certain. There was no other reason for a Runner to be on Sateda. But—and this is what really concerned her—how had they turned the tide in their favor? The Wraith wouldn’t just tag him and let him go again. They had to have some sort of advantage.

Was Ronon wounded? If so, how badly?

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, worrying. Over the past few months, Ronon had become a good friend to her. Closer, really, than anyone else on Atlantis, save Carson and Amelia. He’d been a good sparring partner, someone to argue and squabble with—and they did plenty of that, thanks to his moodiness and her hardheadedness—and he’d even managed to cheer her up if she was having an off day. She didn’t know how she’d handle it if he—

“We’re here,” Sheppard said, opening the cargo door. “Me and Teyla will go after Ronon. We’ll track him with this,” he said, holding up a blinking device.

“Uh…” Brady said, raising her hand. “I’m going too.”

“You know, one day I’m going to order my team to do something and I’m not going to get _any argument_,” Sheppard said pointedly.

“Sure. And one day I’ll sit in the dugout with the Red Sox,” Brady said, checking the clip in her weapon. “We’ve all got dreams.”

Sheppard threw an expression that all but mirrored the look Caldwell had given him earlier.

“Let’s go,” he muttered.

“Good luck,” Beckett said.

Brady followed Sheppard and Teyla out of the Jumper. They crept into the war-ravaged building, following the maze of rubble toward the blinking dot that indicated Ronon’s whereabouts.

“He’s not moving,” Brady whispered.

“Well, maybe he’s pinned down,” Sheppard replied.

No one was willing to think anything worse.

Sheppard held up his fist, halting their steps. A howl, haunting and full of anguish, resonated in the empty building.

“Ronon?” Brady whispered.

They continued slowly toward the sound. It stopped suddenly as they approached the ruins of an open surgery. Guns at the ready, they rounded the corner.

Ronon, still in the process of getting to his feet, growled and pointed his gun at them, startled at their sudden appearance.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Sheppard said, lowering his weapon. Ronon slouched against the wall and slid back to the floor.

“Are you ok?” Teyla asked, stepping forward.

Brady brought up the rear, frowning as she noticed the small pool of blood spreading from beneath Ronon’s thigh.

Sheppard bent to help Ronon to his feet. Brady went to his other side to support his weight if his wound was too severe to walk unassisted. Teyla kept an eye out for any approaching Wraith.

“Come on. You can thank us later,” Sheppard said. “McKay and Beckett are waiting for us in a Jumper on the roof.”

“Get out of here.” Ronon said. He pointed his gun at them, waving it between Sheppard and Brady.

“Oh, hey,” Sheppard said, raising his hands.

“Whoa. What are you doing?” Brady demanded.

“Look buddy, I know you’ve been through a lot, but uh...”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ronon said stubbornly.

“Dammit,” Brady hissed, glancing out a broken window. “We’re gonna have company very soon.”

McKay’s voice sounded over the radio, verifying Brady’s words. “What is going on down there? You have at least twenty-five Wraith closing in on your position from the ground level.”

“It seems Ronon doesn’t want to leave,” Sheppard said.

“Well too bad! You tell that ungrateful example of unevolved humanity that we came all this way to rescue him, so he’d better get off his ass—“

“McKay says he’s very hurt you wont come with us,” Sheppard said, interrupting Rodney’s tirade.

“I can’t,” Ronon said.

“Why the hell not?” Brady wondered.

“Keturah and his people...they had a deal,” he said, looking at Sheppard. “They traded me for their freedom.”

“You’re doing this for them?” Brady asked incredulously. “The ones on that planet who turned you over to the Wraith in the first place?”

“It was my fault they were culled.”

Teyla looked at Ronon sympathetically. “The Wraith did not honor the deal. Keturah and his village, they’re all dead.”

“Now can we go?” Sheppard asked, holding his hand down to Ronon.

The warrior pushed himself to his feet with a stifled groan. He favored his right leg, clenching his teeth against the pain he felt.

“No,” he growled.

Brady hissed in exasperation, looking at Ronon as if she’d like nothing better than to choke him. “Why the hell _not_?” she asked again.

He looked at her, his eyes cold and determined. “Because I’m going to kill the Wraith responsible for all this.”

Sheppard sighed and shifted his gun. “I don’t suppose he happens to be one of the ones out there that’s about to come in here?”

“No. He’s probably still up on the hive,” Ronon replied.

“We can’t take on a hive ship,” Teyla said, shaking her head.

“Won’t have to.”

Brady brought a hand to her ear as her radio buzzed. McKay’s irritated voice demanded to know why they weren’t moving.

“Ronon...wants to take care of a few things first,” Brady said, sighing.

“Oh really?” McKay asked acidly. “Like what?”

Everyone ignored him.

“Let’s go kill some Wraith,” Sheppard said.

“I vote Ronon buys dinner tonight,” Brady said, giving him a small smile.

“Just stay out of my way,” Ronon growled. Brady looked at Teyla and rolled her eyes.

“Hey,” Sheppard said, pulling Ronon’s gun out of his vest. “Thought you might want this.”

Ronon took the gun and led the way out of the surgery.

“You’re welcome,” Sheppard said dryly.

“What the hell is going on down there?” McKay asked over the radio.

“Ronon thinks he can get the head Wraith responsible for all this to come down and fight him if we kill all these Wraith first.”

“That is the stupidest plan I have ever heard!” McKay said.

“I dunno. Killing a bunch of Wraith always seems like a good idea to me,” Sheppard replied.

“It’s a great idea, as long as we don’t get killed in the process,” Brady added sardonically.

“Oh, come now Brady. No one likes a pessimist,” Sheppard said.

“You’re outnumbered at least thirty to four!” McKay squawked.

Beckett’s voice piped up. “Um, it’s actually twenty-nine to four. Twenty-eight...”

“Ronon appears to be quite angry,” Teyla said.

Sheppard led Teyla and Brady down the stairwell after Ronon, picking off Wraith as they went. Once they hit the bottom floor, they filed out and began sweeping the wreckage, taking out any Wraith they came across.

Rodney droned on in their earpieces, but each soldier had been in the field enough times to know how to focus only on their objective and to shut out any distractions.

Carnage surrounded them. Brady lost sight of Sheppard and Teyla. Ronon was somewhere off on his own. She killed the last Wraith in her corridor before turning back to where they had split up.

The building grew quiet as the sound of gunfire faded. They regrouped in the dim foyer. Sheppard radioed the Jumper.

“That’s it. We got them all, McKay?”

“Uh...yeah. It’s just you guys left,” Rodney said, surprise clear in his voice. “Well, that was quick.”

“I got five,” Brady said with a shrug.

“I got six,” Sheppard said. “Teyla got...”

“Eight,” Teyla said with a smug smile.

Sheppard touched his earpiece. “I got nine, Teyla eight, Brady five. Ronon got the rest.”

Teyla and Brady exchanged an amused look, shaking their heads.

They found Ronon talking to a recon drone near the entrance of the old hospital.

“You want me?” he asked. “Come get me! I’ll be waiting.”

Brady winced as he shot the drone. Ronon turned and pointed a finger at them.

“You kill him before I do, I kill you.”

“What if he kills you first?” Sheppard asked.

“Then you kill him,” the warrior replied, walking out of the building.

“Got it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Brady said.

“We’ll take posts and cover the street,” Sheppard said. “Teyla, you and I will take the right side. Brady, get back to the Jumper and cover from the balcony on the roof. McKay?”

“Yeah?”

“I want that Jumper ready to go when this thing’s done, got it?”

“Copy that. I’ve only been trying to get you to come back for fifteen minutes already.”

“Stay in contact. Radio open,” Sheppard said as Brady broke off to get back upstairs.

“Got it,” Brady said. She climbed the staircase, stepping over dead Wraith and the remains of Satedan doctors and nurses. She passed the cloaked Jumper, hitting the side as she passed to let McKay and Beckett know she was out there. She lay on the roof and pointed her P90 toward the street below.

“I could shoot him right now,” Sheppard said over the radio. Brady frowned.

“I wouldn’t,” Teyla warned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shep.”

“You really think Ronon would kill me?” Sheppard asked.

“He’s got it in his head that he’s gotta do it to make this right,” Brady replied.

“I think he wouldn’t forgive you,” Teyla said.

The radio was quiet as the team watched Ronon take a beating from the Wraith commander. Brady’s finger was itching on the trigger of her gun. She wanted to take that Wraith down just as much as Sheppard. No doubt Teyla felt the same way.

“The hive has got to be watching,” Teyla said. Obviously Sheppard had moved to set up a shot. “We shoot that Wraith, they blast us all from space.”

“He won’t be able to take much more of this,” Brady said, grimacing on Ronon’s behalf as the Wraith threw him against the wall of a building. She stood and backed to the Jumper. She closed comms to Sheppard and Teyla and pounded on the side of the Jumper.

“We’ve been watching the whole thing,” Carson said as he lowered the cargo door. “Ronon’s not gonna be able to put up a defense for much longer.”

Brady stepped into the cloaked Jumper and pushed into the cockpit. She watched as Ronon grappled with the Wraith. Soon he would be unable to get back on his feet.

“I’d say that’s just about enough of this macho crap,” McKay said heatedly as Ronon crawled away from the Wraith. The commander grabbed him by his dreadlocks and tossed him to the ground as if he weighed nothing.

“Carson, take us down. We’re delivering aid,” Brady said resolutely.

Beckett brought the Jumper off the building and letting it hover above the street, directly in front of the Wraith, who was kneeling above Ronon.

“Shoot this guy,” McKay said.

“If he doesn’t like it, he can sue me,” Beckett said.

He closed his eyes and dropped the Jumper’s cloak. The Wraith looked up in surprise as the ship materialized in front of him. Beckett fired the weapons, blasting the Wraith. Brady searched the ledge where Teyla and Sheppard had taken position, sighing with relief as she saw them run out of the building.

She strode to the cargo haul and opened the back door, scooping the other team members into the hold just before Beckett sent the Jumper to flight. She closed the door and slid down it, resting on the floor. She looked at Sheppard and grinned.

“Everyone ok?” Beckett asked, opening the cockpit doors as he and Rodney spilled out.

“We are ok,” Teyla said. She stored her weapons, stepping aside as Brady slid over to unlock the med kit.

Brady opened the kit, removing things Carson would need to remove the tracking device as well as patch up Ronon’s cuts and holes until they were on board the Daedelus.

“Which one of you killed the Wraith?” Ronon asked quietly, panting.

“That would be me,” Beckett said, smiling proudly.

“My idea,” McKay chimed in, also smiling.

“Ronon...” Teyla warned.

“What?” Beckett asked nervously. “Don’t tell me you’re not happy that he’s dead.”

“I had him in my sights the whole time,” Sheppard said, “but Ronon said he’d kill me if I shot him.”

Brady couldn’t contain the small smile that curved her lips. Sheppard sounded so pouty.

“It was all Brady’s idea!” McKay said frantically, pointing at her.

“Oh, real mature McKay,” Brady said. She passed the stocked med tray to Beckett, who sat it on the shelf above the bench, possibly to keep the contents from scattering all over the Jumper if Ronon decided to hit him.

“Thanks doc,” Ronon said, surprising everyone. He grabbed Beckett and pulled him in for a hug, slapping him gruffly on the back. “You too,” he continued, hauling Brady to him and squeezing her briefly.

“What, them you thank?” McKay asked, his voice filled with indignation.

“I could have killed him at any time but Teyla wouldn’t let me!” Sheppard said huffily.

“Thank you,” Ronon said, releasing Brady. “All of you.”

“Oh...don’t mention it,” McKay said.

“It’s nothing, really,” Sheppard said dismissively. “I only killed 11...12 Wraith.”

Brady looked at him disbelievingly and shook her head, chuckling as Teyla rolled her eyes.

“How about you sit down and I get that tracking device out of you and deactivated before that Hive ship gets a bead on us?” Beckett asked, retrieving his tray. “I take it this time you won’t mind if I give you a sedative?”

Brady stepped to the side as Ronon passed out in the Jumper floor. “I guess I could have tried to catch him...”

“Well, he did threaten to kill us earlier,” Sheppard reasoned as he removed his gear.

“True,” Brady agreed, kneeling and helping Beckett roll Ronon onto his stomach.

“Um...Who’s flying the ship?” Sheppard asked.

“Me,” Rodney answered, watching with fascinated horror as Beckett began the retrieval.

“Rodney.”

“Oh! Right,” McKay said, slipping back into the cockpit and taking the helm.


	6. Unwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brady drinks unfamiliar alcohol.

## UNWIND September 2006

Brady swirled the bubbly green liquid in her glass. She wasn’t sure how many drinks this made, but she definitely didn’t feel drunk.

_Hot, yes,_ she thought as she took off her uniform jacket. She untucked her tank top and fanned herself.

She’d been sitting at the table for hours, enjoying Captain Fallman’s 40th birthday party, drinking the questionable beverage that she had been provided.

The mess hall was loud, the men and women rowdy. Some were drunk—those who had been cleared to remain off-duty the next day—but everyone seemed to be having fun.

Movement in her peripheral vision had Brady turning her head toward the door. Ronon entered the cafeteria and picked his way through the crowd to talk to Sheppard and Teyla.

Brady narrowed her eyes and focused on what he was saying, but his dreadlocks blocked his face. She frowned at being thwarted.

So like him to make it impossible to know what he was thinking—or in this case, talking—about. Hot one minute, cold the next. The man had more going on in that head of his than anybody knew. Maybe that’s why his moods swung like a saloon door at happy hour...

From the trio’s body language, she assumed whatever he was saying didn’t contain a threat or impending doom of any kind. She scoffed as Sheppard laughed and slapped Ronon on the back.

“You want a refill?”

Brady peeled her eyes away from the tall, irritating warrior and focused her gaze on the soldier in front of her.

“No, I’m cool,” she said, holding up her glass. He started to leave but she called him back and he smiled as he topped her off.

“Better take it easy, doc,” the soldier said. “You’re gonna have one hell of a headache tomorrow.”

“Well now that the Stargate subway thing is operational, we can have some Alka-Seltzer shipped in,” she said with a grin. The young soldier shook his head and left her table as Brady sipped her bubbly drink and continued to people-watch.

\--

“Hey.”

Brady groaned as someone shook her roughly.

“Hey, Brady.”

She raised her head and glared at Ronon. “What?”

“Are you planning on sleeping here all night?” he asked.

Brady frowned and looked around. The cafeteria was empty except for her and Ronon.

“What time is it?”

“About 3.”

“In the morning?” she asked dumbly.

Ronon didn’t answer, but instead set about ushering her to her feet. “Come on,” he said.

Brady’s stomach dropped to her feet as her legs straightened. She gripped the edge of the table and closed her eyes.

“How much did you have to drink?” Ronon asked.

“Um...a few glasses of the green stuff. Three. No, maybe four. I dunno.”

He swore—or she presumed he was swearing. She knew he wasn’t speaking English and her brain wasn’t sharp enough to decipher his language.

“How are you not in a coma?” he asked. “I’ve seen soldiers from Earth drink seven bears—“

“Beers,” she corrected.

“—and never bat an eyelash, but one glass of Kalorian mead puts them under the table.”

“Oh...oh dear,” Brady said.

“Can you at least walk?” Ronon asked impatiently.

Brady released the table and took a tentative step...and would have fallen to the floor face-first if Ronon hadn’t reached out to steady her. He sighed and looped her arm over his shoulder, but the height difference made it an awkward angle. He sighed again and bent, picking her up.

“This is twice now I’ve had to lug you around this place,” he said.

“I haven’t _asked_ you to do it either of those times, thanks very much,” she replied, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. He mumbled something, but she fell asleep before she could get him to repeat it.

Ronon took a look at the woman passed out in his arms and shook his head with a small smile. He reached her quarters before he realized he didn’t have her keycard. All personnel who handled off-world artifacts were required to have a keycard in case anyone infiltrated the base, to cut the chances of thievery. It was, in Ronon’s opinion, total crap and far too much trouble just now.

He jostled her gently to shake her awake.

“Brady,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed and she grunted. “Brady, where’s your key?”

“Jacket,” she muttered, turning her face toward his shoulder. She sighed contentedly and began to snore softly.

“Jacket,” Ronon repeated. “Of course it’s in your jacket.”

He looked back toward the direction of the mess hall—completely on the other side of the level. His quarters were just around the corner and a couple of doors down. Ronon had never considered himself lazy, but he’d rather dump the woman in his room and let her sleep it off than carry her all over Atlantis and back again.

Decision made, he left her door and headed toward his room.

\--

Brady lifted her head with a quiet groan. Her brain pounded and her eyes felt as if they were being jabbed out of her head from the inside of her skull. She closed them tightly and pulled the blanket from her face, sitting up in the bed.

She opened her eyes and frowned. Her eyes scanned the room and she fought panic as she realized that she had no idea where she was. She threw back the covers and gasped as the cool morning air hit her bare legs.

No pants.

Not a good thing.

Brady covered her legs and put her hands over her eyes as she tried to sort through her alcohol-blurred memories from the night before.

She heard the door to the room swish open and clutched the blanket to her chest as Beckett entered.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, stepping inside.

Brady shook her head mutely as he chattered on.

“How’s the head?”

“Not so good,” she said. “Carson…um, last night…”

“Last night was mad,” he said, smiling cheerily. “Paying for it today though, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Brady croaked. Oh God. She had slept with Carson...

He chuckled. “Here,” he said, handing her a few pills. “Take these. I’ve been making rounds all morning. You young ones had better realize that your day will soon come when you can’t be drinkin’ ‘til the wee hours of the morning.”

“So we…”

“We what, love?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

Brady shook her head, but immediately regretted it. “Nevermind,” she said, placing a hand on her temple. “Thanks, Carson.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Get some more rest. It’ll help.”

Beckett left the room and Brady lay back down. She sighed and rolled out of bed, looking for her pants. Naturally, they weren’t anywhere to be seen. She pilfered through a pile of laundry, but had no luck in finding her own clothes.

The door opened again and Sheppard entered, stopping short when he saw Brady on the other side of the bed. He averted his eyes immediately and sat the coffee he had been carrying on the bedside table, picking up an old newspaper and tapping it on his leg.

“Uh…Rodney’s got a tablet he found in one of the new sectors he wants you to take a look at,” he said. He cleared his throat. “So I thought you might could use some coffee. After last night.”

“Thanks,” Brady said. She swallowed and tugged the hem of her tank top down, cursing her bright pink panties.

“Yeah…this is really awkward,” Sheppard said. “I’m…I’m gonna take my paper and…go.”

“Mkay,” she mumbled. “Um, thanks for the coffee.”

Sheppard nodded and left the room.

Ok, so she hadn’t slept with Carson. She’d slept with Sheppard. Her boss. Oh God…

“You managed to go five years at the SGC without sleeping with anyone,” she muttered to herself, bending to look for her pants. She got on her knees and crawled around the edge of the bed. “You’re on Atlantis for ten months and suddenly you’re the drunk girl at prom who slept with the football team.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Brady let out a squeak of surprise and jerked out from under the bed, banging the back of her head on the frame in the process.

She threw Ronon a baleful glance as she rubbed her head. “Nobody,” she said, getting back to her search. “Myself.”

“Why are you crawling around in my floor?” Ronon asked, trying not to stare at the bare pale legs that were protruding from beneath his bed.

“_Your_ floor?” Brady asked, startled. She shimmied out from under the bed and stood. “This is your room?”

“Yes,” Ronon said. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Then…I didn’t sleep with Sheppard last night?” she asked.

Ronon frowned. “No. Why?”

“He brought me coffee,” she replied. “And took a newspaper. I just…I thought this was his room.”

Ronon fought a smile. She looked so miserable standing there half-naked, all sleep rumpled and embarrassed.

“And just to verify…I didn’t sleep with Carson either?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Only person you slept with last night was me, although technically it was this morning.”

The door swished open and Sheppard stuck his head in. “Ronon, Gate room.”

“Be right there,” Ronon said.

“I…you? But...shit.” Brady groaned, sitting on the side of the bed.

Ronon bent and picked up the pants she had been looking for, tossing them to her.

“Alpha’s going off-world today. McKay needs that translation when we get back.” He closed the distance between them and stood over her, looking down into her eyes. “If you get your work done,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, “I’ll give you all the dirty little details about last night.”

He leaned down so that his face was only an inch away from hers. Brady nodded, unable to get a sound past the dryness in her throat.

“Ronon,” Sheppard said, sticking his head in the door and tapping his watch.

The corners of Ronon’s lips curved and he turned, leaving Brady alone in his quarters.

“So…” Sheppard began as they walked down the corridor.

“What?”

“How long you gonna let her suffer?”

Ronon grinned and shrugged. “I’ll tell her tonight. It’ll drive her crazy all day, thinking we slept together, but I’d stake my gun on the fact that she doesn’t drink that much again.”

“You’re kind of evil, you know that?” Sheppard asked, giving Ronon a slanted look.

The warrior just shrugged again and twirled his pistol as they walked toward the gate room.


	7. The Lost Temple

## THE LOST TEMPLE October 2006

“We have an unscheduled activation!”

Personnel flooded the control room as the Stargate activated.

“It’s Lieutenant Beach’s IDC,” the technician said.

“Lower the shield,” Weir instructed.

Beach ran through the wormhole and collapsed.

“Oh my God,” Weir said. “We need a med team to the gate room!” she shouted into her headset. She ran to the fallen soldier and knelt beside him.

“Lieutenant,” Weir said. “Where is the rest of your team?”

“Gotta go back. Gotta go back,” Beach said. He gripped Weir’s sleeves in tight fists as his eyes darted around frantically.

“It’s alright,” Weir assured him. “You’re safe, Lieutenant.”

Beach started to speak again but passed out before he could get the words out. She stepped aside as Carson checked the young man’s vitals and the med team transported him to the infirmary.

“What the hell happened on that planet?” Sheppard whispered, watching as Beach was wheeled away.

“I don’t know,” Weir said.

“What about the rest of his team?” Rodney asked. “I mean, are they...?”

“I don’t know,” Weir repeated, looking at Sheppard.

“Let—“

“I know what you’re going to ask, John, but I can’t sign off on a retrieval until we have more intel.”

“Well, not to sound callous, but I don’t predict that Beach is going to be very forthcoming any time soon,” Rodney said.

“Dr. McKay is right,” Teyla said. “By the time Lieutenant Beach is coherent, it may be too late for the rest of his team.”

“I can’t risk anyone else,” Weir said. “The higher-ups are scrutinizing every move I make. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Elizabeth,” Sheppard said. “I will not leave my people behind.”

“I’m sorry John,” Weir repeated. “I can’t send a team right now. My hands are tied.”

“I’ll go.”

All turned to look at Ronon. Weir started shaking her head, but Ronon arched a brow.

“Am I a prisoner here?”

“You know very well that you aren’t,” Weir said. “But—“

“Then I am free to come and go, and right now I choose to go. I hear M36-490 is nice this time of year.”

“Ronon—“

“I will go as well,” Teyla said.

“Dial the gate, McKay,” Sheppard said.

“On it.”

Weir sighed. She looked at Sheppard. “Go with your team.”

“What about the higher-ups?” Sheppard said as the wormhole appeared.

“I’ll deal with them when I’m on Earth. On Atlantis, I make the rules. Go.”

“Who are we looking for?” Ronon asked.

“Jefferson, Cole, and the anthropologist with the comb-over,” Sheppard said. “Strothers.”

“No, Strothers got put in the sick bay,” Weir said. “Brady replaced him this morning.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Ronon said, twisting the dial on his gun from stun to kill. He tied his dreadlocks with a thin leather strip and fell into step beside Sheppard and Teyla as they walked through the event horizon.

\--

The air was dense and humid on M36-490. There was nothing around the gate that gave any indication of what had transpired with the missing team.

“The MALP picked up some sort of temple on the fly-by,” Sheppard said. “Strothers thought it looked Ancient in origin. Jefferson, Cole, and Beach were escorting him.”

He headed away from the gate in the direction of the temple. The tip of the pyramid-like structure could be seen over the tops of the large tropical trees.

The three soldiers stayed alert, walking slowly through the thick rainforest.

“There was a fight here,” Ronon said, kneeling in the undergrowth. He frowned and touched the ground. “There’s blood. Lots of it.” He shifted around and picked something up from the ground, handing it to Sheppard.

“Cole’s dog tags,” Sheppard said.

“Maybe he just lost them in the fight?” Teyla said.

Ronon quickly stood and shook his head. “There’s too much blood. Somebody died here.”

“We do not know that it was Lieutenant Cole,” Teyla said.

“Yes we do,” Ronon replied. “Part of the body is still in the bushes. No,” he said when Sheppard started over.

“I’m not just leaving one of my men laying there. He deserves to be taken back and buried.”

“There’s not enough to bury,” Ronon said, voice thick. “We have to keep moving before Jefferson and Brady end up like Cole.”

Ronon started walking toward the temple. Teyla looked at Sheppard and hesitantly followed. Sheppard swore softly, clenching the fallen soldier’s dog tags in his fist. With a sigh, he followed after his team.

“Everything’s still,” Teyla said. “I do not even hear animals in the trees.”

“There are none,” Ronon said. “There’s no movement anywhere.”

“Let’s just keep our eyes open,” Sheppard said. “Stay within sight of each other. If somebody took the other team alive, chances are they took them to that temple.”

The hike to the temple was arduous, but the team made good time.

“There’s four men in front of the steps,” Sheppard said, looking through binoculars. “Two more on the south corner.”

“Another three on the north side,” Ronon said.

Sheppard took the binoculars away from his eyes and looked to the north. He looked through the binoculars again, shook his head, and then looked at Ronon. “How do you do that?”

Ronon shrugged.

“Alright,” Sheppard said. “Let’s go get our people.”

They crept through the jungle until they could see the front side of the massive temple and the four native warriors that paced before the stairs.

“Easy, Chewie,” Sheppard said, noting Ronon locking the sights of his gun on one of the warriors. “We have to make sure there aren’t any other sentries creeping around.”

“Our guns are loud,” Teyla said. “They will surely send more warriors when they hear the shots.”

“I can pick them off from here.”

“No,” Sheppard said, shaking his head at Ronon. “There’d be too much time to send up an alarm.”

“Well what are we going to do about them?” Teyla asked.

Sheppard sighed and pulled his ka-bar out of the sheath on his belt.

“Colonel…” Teyla said, hesitantly removing her own knife.

“Hand to hand is the best way to go in this situation,” Sheppard said. “Ronon—“

“I’ll take the two on the left,” Ronon said, pulling his sword and giving it a twirl. He checked his gun and strode from the trees beside Sheppard and Teyla.

The sentries spotted them and rushed forward with a burst of frenzied speech.

Ronon blasted the nearest warrior and sliced the throat of the one behind. At the same moment, Sheppard and Teyla engaged their marks and quickly dispatched them.

“Sheppard,” Ronon said, nudging one of the dead bodies with his foot. He slid the blade of his sword beneath the dead man’s necklace and lifted it away from the body.

Fingers adorned the necklace, both skeletal remains and freshly harvested appendages.

“Oh my God,” Sheppard said, kneeling to examine the accessory.

Each warrior wore a similar necklace, each with at least one fresh piece of flesh. Bones and teeth separated fingers, toes, and other unidentifiable body parts.

“That’s only one person,” Ronon said, counting the severed digits.

“The others might still be alive,” Teyla said.

“Come on,” Sheppard said, leading his team up the stairs. “Stay sharp.”

They crept through the large domed door, ducking behind massive pillars as a few natives passed. They searched the first level of the pyramid with no sign of the missing. They came to a stairwell and descended slowly, guns at the ready.

Torches lit a long hallway. Crude cells, most containing people inches away from death who paid no mind to Sheppard and the others, ran the length of the hall.

“Look for our people,” Sheppard said quietly. He started down the hall to the left; Ronon and Teyla went to the right.

“Colonel!”

“Jefferson,” Sheppard said, relieved to find the lieutenant alive. He radioed Teyla and Ronon to tell them that he found one of the missing soldiers.

“Thank God,” Jefferson said. “I didn’t know if Beach got through. They were everywhere, sir.”

“What happened?” Sheppard asked, prying at the crude lock on the cell door. He stepped back as Ronon pushed him aside to get at the lock.

“They killed Cole,” Jefferson said. “They came out of nowhere. The doc, she talked to them. They seemed really taken by her, but freaked out at the same time. She told us that she told them we were her guardians and they needed to take us back to the gate now that she’d been delivered to them.”

“What the hell was she talking about?” Sheppard demanded.

“She didn’t get to say. She just told us to get back to the gate and not to worry about her. Well, Cole, he says like hell, and he starts fighting. He killed one of the native guys and…they went berserk. All of ‘em. It was like…like sharks. A feeding frenzy. They closed in on Cole and…sir, I’ve never seen anything like it. They…they tore him to pieces. Just pulled out their blades and butchered him.”

The soldier fell quiet, paling at the memory.

“Then what happened?” Ronon asked as the lock gave way. He swung the cell door open and stood aside so that Jefferson could join them in the hallway.

Sheppard led the way back to the stairwell, listening to the rest of the lieutenant’s recount.

“Well after Cole, they turned like they were gonna start in on Beach and me. Cut my thigh pretty good. And the doc, she starts yelling at them in their language, or as close as she knows, anyway. So they grab me and Beach and we all start walking toward the temple. Beach, he gets loose from his bonds and starts in on mine, but I tell him to forget it and to get back to Atlantis and get a team after us. He hated leaving us behind, but…he didn’t have a choice. So Beach takes off and a few guys start after him, but the doc, she talks to the guys with her and they call ‘em back. They brought us here and fed us, then brought me down here.”

“Where is Brady now?” Teyla asked, helping the injured man along.

“Last I saw, they headed back up to the top level. She was trying to be all calm, but she was scared. She was playing at something, but I don’t know what.”

“We need to find her and get outta here,” Sheppard said. “Come on.”

They crept up the stairs and back toward the front of the temple. The sound of voices reached them and they ducked around the corner.

“Teyla, you and Ronon get Jefferson—“

“I’m going with you,” Ronon interrupted.

“Is it too much to ask that you just do one thing without arguing with me?”

“Next time,” Ronon promised.

“Fine. Teyla, think you can get Jefferson back to the gate by yourself?” Sheppard asked.

“I am certain I can.”

“I’m not incapacitated,” Jefferson said. “You give me a gun, sir, and I’ll be fit for the trip.”

“Good man,” Sheppard said, passing over his side arm. “It’s all I have,” he said apologetically.

“It’ll have to do,” Jefferson said with a weak smile. “See you back home.”

“Keep a candle burning,” Sheppard said.

Teyla and Jefferson disappeared toward the door as Ronon and Sheppard prepared for battle.

The voices were getting closer. Sheppard risked a look around the corner and saw two indigenes walking right toward them. They talked excitedly and with their hands, pointing and waving. Their movement drew attention to the grotesque accessories adorning their necks and wrists.

Sheppard cursed.

“What?” Ronon whispered, peering over Sheppard’s head. He saw that each man had a lock of long red hair woven onto his bracelet.

With a snarl, Ronon rounded the corner and fired his pistol, hitting each man with a beam from his gun. He again heard Sheppard curse from behind him, but continued down the hall toward the only open doorway.

Sheppard rushed after his teammate.

“Ronon!” he hissed. “Dammit. Teyla,” he said into his radio.

“Colonel?”

“How far are you and Jefferson from the Stargate?”

“We have only just reached the other side of the jungle. I would say we are at least three miles away.”

“Well, you better put some speed on it,” Sheppard said, falling into step beside Ronon and throwing the other man an annoyed glance. “Ronon has engaged the enemy. If Brady’s being held by too many warriors for us to defeat, they might send a troupe after you.”

“I understand,” Teyla said.

Sheppard and Ronon approached the open doorway and scanned the interior of the room. They could hear voices chanting beyond the open door on the other side of the throne room.

Ronon and Sheppard stepped inside and crossed the room. Sheppard jerked his head toward a balcony that was open to both rooms and Ronon nodded in understanding. Sheppard swung his gun around his back and deftly scaled the balcony.

The chanting in the room stopped and a single male voice spoke clearly in a foreign language. Then, rising high above the murmuring was the sound of Brady’s voice.

Ronon peered around the corner and saw a small contingent of men kneeling before an elaborately carved stone altar. Brady knelt on the surface with her hands clasped in front of her. She stared straight ahead with her chin held high, but Ronon could see the fear shining in her eyes. Her long red hair had been unevenly shorn so that it was scarcely long enough to cover the tops of her ears.

An ornately dressed priest spoke again, raising a club high over his head. The kneeling men cheered. The priest threw herbs and petals on Brady. He laid two large gold statues on either side of her before he spoke again.

“Ronon,” Sheppard whispered in the earpiece. “I’ve got two mags and a smoke canister left. That’ll buy a distraction. Can you get to Brady before the disorientation wears off?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. I’ll pop a canister and watch your six,” Sheppard said. “In 3, 2…”

A small silver canister flew down from the balcony. With a flash of light and a loud fizzing sound, the room flooded with thick smoke. Ronon dove into the chaos, picking his way through the room to the altar. Brady took advantage of the distraction to scramble up from her knees.

The priest approached her with the ceremonial club, raising it over his head to crack her skull. Without breaking stride, Ronon blasted the priest with his gun and scooped Brady over his shoulder. He turned and ran from the room as the sound of Sheppard’s gunfire echoed behind him.

“Can you walk?” Ronon shouted, running across the throne room. He saw Sheppard swing down from the balcony and come after him.

“Yeah,” Brady answered. “I can walk. Put me down.”

“Come on, kids,” Sheppard said, catching up to them. “We’re gonna have company real quick.”

Angry shouts and battle cries filled the air as Sheppard, Ronon, and Brady ran down the stairs in front of the temple. They ran into the woods and up the ravine, hardly pausing long enough to catch their breath.

“Colonel!”

Sheppard exhaled a rush of breath as Major Lorne appeared out of nowhere.

“Get to the Jumper!” Sheppard shouted.

Teyla joined Lorne in laying down cover fire outside the ship as the cloak on the Puddle Jumper lifted. Beckett ran through the hatch with his medical bag in tow.

“Not now, Doc,” Sheppard said as he ran past Beckett. Ronon and Brady followed closely, ducking into the cargo bay as Sheppard jumped into the pilot’s seat.

The cloaked Jumper lifted into the air and flew toward the gate just as the tribe broke through the tree line.

“Lucky you showed up when you did, Lorne,” Sheppard said.

“We came through in the Jumper not long after you left. Picked up Teyla’s signal on the scanner and tracked her down. Good thing, too. Even with Jefferson’s gun, they woulda been overtaken in a few minutes. We came closer to the temple in case you needed a hand.”

“Appreciate it,” Sheppard said. He looked at Carson and gave him the helm, crawling into the back. “So what in the hell happened?” he asked Brady.

“They thought I was a goddess,” she said, wincing as she tried to regain her breath. “Red is a holy color and they had never seen anyone with red hair. It’s a common occurrence in mythology, actually. Ancient people on Earth thought that red hair was an indication of anything from possession to vampirism to witchcraft.”

“We aren’t talking about ancient people on Earth,” Sheppard said. “We’re talking about that group of primitives that killed one of my men and almost killed you.”

“They thought they were releasing me from my bond,” Brady said.

“And you were just gonna let them?”

She looked at Ronon. “They were going to take the team back to the gate. True or false, Ronon: if you could save the lives of your teammates by offering yourself to your enemy, you would do it.”

“I would fight,” he replied.

“You would die, and so would your team,” Jefferson said. “The doc knew there was no way we’d win if we engaged.”

Brady looked at Sheppard. “I’m so sorry, Colonel. I thought I was doing the right thing. Cole—“

“Later,” Sheppard said, giving a short nod. “You can give your report to us later, Brady. Weir needs to hear it too. It can wait.”

She sat back and nodded.

“Nice hair,” Lorne said to Brady teasingly as he passed her a canteen.

She smiled weakly and ran a trembling hand through the short locks. “Hopefully I can get somebody to clean it up some,” she said, taking a long drink of water.

She passed the canteen to Ronon, who frowned at her in concern. She tried for another smile and leaned her head back against the wall of the Jumper, closing her eyes. She felt Ronon shift closer and she pivoted, leaning her cheek against the warm skin of his arm. She felt the muscles beneath the skin relax, as if he had been anxiously waiting for her to get comfortable.


	8. On the Mend

** _ ON THE MEND _ **

“What do you want _now_?” Brady asked, removing her headphones and twirling her Kendo sticks as she stepped away from the practice dummy.

Sheppard smiled. “What do you mean ‘now’? This is the first time I’ve seen you all day. I brought you some water.”

Brady picked up her own water bottle and showed it to him, shaking it pointedly. She sighed.

“Alright, seriously. Shep, you gotta stop checking on me sixty times a day. I’m fine. I told you I’m fine. Beckett told you I’m fine. Heightmeyer even told you I’m fine, and I swear that woman tries to keep people around as long as possible. What’s it gonna take for you to get that I am _fine_?”

“Rumor has it you haven’t really been sleeping since you got out of sick bay.”

“Well, I suppose one reason might be because when I got out of sick bay I found out that my quarters had been changed,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“The ventilation in your old room wasn’t working properly,” Sheppard said.

“And it just so happens that the only room available was between Ronon and Sergeant Dawes? Could it be, Shep, that you are afraid I’m going to have some sort of breakdown?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sheppard said with a scowl. “It’s just...well, Jefferson took some time off and went back home for a couple of weeks. Beach put in for a transfer back to Antarctica. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Look,” she said, twirling her sticks again. “I promise, I’m not going to go Temple of Doom on you guys. True, I’ve been through a harrowing experience—“

“Harrowing experience?” Sheppard repeated. “Dammit Brady, you were seconds away from having your head bashed in!”

“I know that!” Brady shouted angrily, throwing one of her sticks. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m working on dealing, Sheppard. But I can’t do that when you, and Teyla, and Lorne, are following me around every second that you’re not off-world asking me if I’m ok, or if I need anything. I. Am. _Fine_. This is a dangerous gig, Shep. Everybody that steps through that gate knows that it might be a one-way trip. It’s part of the job.”

“Ok,” Sheppard said. “Look, I’m sorry if we’ve been driving you crazy. We worry about our people, that’s all. Atlantis works like a well-oiled machine, Brady. All our parts have to be…well oiled… We need you to be…you know. Oiled, or whatever.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Brady said. “But really...”

“I’ll pass word to scale it down a bit,” Sheppard said with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Brady said again, running a hand through her short hair and making it stick up even more.

As Sheppard left, her polite smile slid from her face and she retrieved her stick. She inserted her headphones into her ears and hit play. Turning back to the practice dummy, she attacked with brutality, letting the heavy bass of Korn’s _Twisted Transistor _dictate her movements. As the song ended, she locked her sticks and hit the dummy in the head, tossing her sticks to the ground as a large section of the polyurethane face flew across the room.

She turned and sat cross-legged on the mat, inhaling deeply to slow her breathing. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to throw Ronon a baleful look.

“I swear to God, if you ask me if I’m ok you’ll end up like Bob over there,” she said, jerking a thumb toward the now-faceless dummy.

The corner of Ronon’s lips lifted ever so slightly. “I’m not going to ask if you’re ok,” he assured her. “I was just going to see if you wanted a partner that can fight back.”

“What? Aren’t you scared that in my fragile state sparring might be a bad idea?” she asked sarcastically.

“Everyone else here’s just worried about you because they think of you as a younger sister,” Ronon said walking toward her.

“And you?” Brady asked, careful to keep her voice even.

Ronon stopped in front of her and looked down. He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

“My feelings are less familial than everyone else,” he said, passing her kendo sticks back to her.

Brady tossed the sticks toward the wall and wheeled the practice dummy off the mat. She held her hands up and crooked her finger at Ronon.

“Bring it on, big guy,” she said.

Ronon stripped off his tunic, leaving only his black A-shirt and breeches. They sparred for an hour, each giving and receiving blows. Ronon had Brady pinned to the mat when Sheppard, Weir, and Teyla opened the door. Brady used the distraction to roll Ronon and pin him, pulling back a fist and smiling.

“I win.” She lightly tapped her bruised knuckles on his chin before standing and helping him to his feet.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Sheppard demanded as he glared at the duo.

Ronon’s lip was split and he had a fairly decent-sized bruise on his cheek. Judging from the redness of the skin on his stomach where his undershirt had rolled up, Brady had gotten in a couple of nice shots there as well. Brady’s knuckles were bruised. She was sporting a nice shiner and had a small streak of blood on her lower lip.

“I asked Brady to spar,” Ronon said, wiping at his own bleeding lip.

“You what?” Sheppard asked. He looked at his friend as if he was less than intelligent.

“I needed the contact,” Brady said. “I hadn’t trained with anyone in a couple of weeks and Bob just wasn’t cutting it.”

Teyla eyed the disfigured practice dummy and winced. “I see.”

“Dr. Thatcher, I believe you have work to do,” Weir said, eyeing Ronon. “Major Lorne was supposed to give you a panel found on M59-155. Have you received it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Brady said.

“And is it translated?” Weir asked, shifting her gaze to Brady.

“No ma’am, not entirely. I—“

“You are on Atlantis to benefit this expedition, Dr. Thatcher. Shrugging your work is not beneficial. Dr. McKay needs that panel. You’ve been with us long enough to know that all non-military personnel have a strict work ethic. Please return to your office and get back to work.”

Brady set her jaw but kept quiet as she brushed between Teyla and Weir.

“She comes down here when she gets stuck on a project,” Ronon said when Brady had closed the door.

“I am well aware of that,” Weir said. “She informed John earlier that she was tired of everyone walking on eggshells around her. Brady needed to see that she is still part of my team here. If that means going against my nature and being...difficult—“

“Not the word I was gonna use,” Ronon said.

“—then so be it,” Weir finished, ignoring his snide comment.

“I wanna know what the hell you were thinking,” Sheppard said to Ronon. “You two look like you’ve been in a Jumper crash.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Ronon said.

“Did either of you even _attempt_ to pull your punches? To hold back?”

“I did hold back,” Ronon said defensively. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I know that,” Sheppard said.

“I don’t like having to explain myself, Sheppard.”

“I know that too. Ok, let’s say for the sake of argument that you felt the urge to explain your actions,” Sheppard said. “What would you say?”

Ronon gave a small smile at Sheppard’s diplomatic—if a bit mocking—tactics.

“I would say that I know how a good sparring match helps Brady relax, letting her clear her head and getting her back on track with her work,” he said. “I’d also say that she has hardly been sleeping at night and I thought that maybe an intense bout of training would tire her out.”

“She still isn’t sleeping?” Weir asked.

“I hear her moving around all night,” Ronon said. “Whenever she gets still and actually falls asleep for a few minutes, she’ll cry out and then get back up again.”

“I’ll have her talk to Carson,” Weir said. “He can give her something.”

\--

Ronon lay awake in his bed, idly tapping his fingers on his chest. He had grown accustomed over the past week to hearing Brady rustling about in her quarters. Now that she had been given something to help her sleep, the silence was driving him mad.

He got out of bed and opened his window, hoping that if nothing else the sound of the waves against the borders of the city would distract him.

Ronon lay back down, huffing out a breath and rolling onto his side, punching his pillow and trying to get comfortable. He rolled again to lie on his stomach and let the cool night air blow over his bare back.

He had just started to relax and shift into sleep when he heard a muffled whimper. Instantly alert, he sat up to listen. The sound came again and Ronon recognized it as Brady. She usually woke herself up, but he wasn’t sure with the sleep-aid Beckett had given her if she would be able to.

She cried out again, this time louder. If he didn’t go and wake her, someone else would eventually hear and she’d be stuck with everyone tailing her again.

Ronon sighed and rolled out of bed. Her cries were becoming more panicked. He grabbed the keycard that Sheppard had supplied him with, in case she had locked the door.

The door to her quarters opened with a soft whoosh and Ronon stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

He knelt on the edge of her bed and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Brady,” he said quietly, trying to get her awake.

Sympathy stirred in his gut as her features twisted with fear and pain as she dreamed. She cried out again and the desperation in the sound cut through him. He nudged her shoulder.

“Brady, wake up. Come on,” he said.

She began thrashing against his touch. He gripped her upper arm and shook her roughly, pulling her from her nightmare. Disoriented, she fought him, pushing at him with her arms as tears streamed down her face.

“No!”

“Shh. Easy,” Ronon soothed. “Brady, you’re ok. Hey,” he said, pinning her wrists carefully. “You’re ok.”

She settled as she came fully awake. Her eyes closed and she sighed, defeated. Ronon released her wrists and she brought her hands up to cover her face. She inhaled deeply and ran her hands through her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Brady croaked. She cleared her throat and wiped at her tear-dampened cheeks with a sound of disgust.

“Do you...wanna talk about it?” Ronon asked hesitantly as he stood. He was far from the right kind of person to offer therapy, but he could listen.

Brady shook her head. “It’s...”

The look in his eye warned her not to say it had been nothing.

“It’s not like I’ve never seen people die,” she began with a sigh, shifting so that she was sitting with her back against the headboard of her bed. “Loss is a regular occurrence in the SG program. But I’ve never...been responsible,” she said, looking away from him. “It’s never been my fault.”

“You think that what happened to Cole was your fault?”

“How could it not be?” she demanded angrily. “We could have slipped back to the gate easily enough, Ronon. _I_ made contact. _I _let them get the upper hand.”

“But you didn’t start a fight you couldn’t win. Cole did that.”

“To try to save me,” she whispered. “I put him in that position.”

“You weren’t holding the knife that killed him,” Ronon pointed out.

“I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“And then you’d all four be dead. For a genius you are really dumb sometimes,” Ronon said. He brushed her cheek and smiled. “You’re a fast thinker. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to save your team. We all make choices, Brady. Cole made his own choice. To him, it was the right one.”

Brady’s eyelids were heavy, but she was fighting the medicine that Beckett had given her. Unfortunately, the drugs mixed with the low, soothing rumble of Ronon’s voice had her longing to close her eyes and sink into oblivion.

Ronon saw that she was fighting it.

“Why don’t you lie down and get some sleep? You look exhausted.”

“I am,” she admitted. “But...”

“Bad dreams?”

She nodded. “I know I have to sleep—it’s starting to effect my work. But it’s like no matter what I start off dreaming about, it always takes a turn and I end up back in the temple. Sometimes you guys don’t make it out. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes my family’s there, or somebody from Earth. It’s crazy, but it’s like I get...stuck. I can hear myself moaning or whatever, but can’t wake up right away. It terrifies me, even though I know it is just a dream.”

“Tell you what,” Ronon said, tapping her leg so that she would move over. He sat on her bed and crossed his long legs at the ankle. “I’ll stay here for a little while. If you start having a nightmare, I’ll be here to wake you up.”

“Oh, so I need sleep but you don’t?” Brady teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

“I’d be awake whenever you started making noise anyway. Excellent hearing, remember?” he asked. “So actually I’d be saving myself a trip over.”

Brady chewed her lip nervously. “Ok,” she said after a moment’s deliberation. “Um, do you think maybe you…maybe could talk to me or something? It would make it easier for me to fall asleep,” she said, blushing.

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t care,” she said as she scooted down to lay beside him. She rolled onto her side and faced away from him. The light from the digital clock on her bedside table glared in the darkness, but she closed her eyes and settled into her pillow. “Talk about anything. Tell me about Sateda. Tell me what you did today. It doesn’t matter.”

Ronon sighed and began telling her about his day. Within moments, Brady’s breathing had evened. He peered over her shoulder at her face.

She was asleep.

He was tired; it had been a long day. He needed to get back to his quarters and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the morning came.

He glanced at Brady and leaned his head back against her headboard.

He’d stay a few more minutes, just to make sure she was deeply asleep.

\--

Brady opened her eyes and inhaled slowly. 4:17 a.m. She’d been asleep for over five consecutive hours.

…First time in a week.

She rolled beneath the blankets—or tried to—but Ronon’s leg was draped over hers. Brady lifted her head and looked back over her shoulder, unable to resist smiling at the sight of the large warrior snoozing against her headboard.

She reached back and nudged him. “Ronon?”

In sleep, his eyebrows furrowed. He shifted, sliding lower on the bed and rolling so that his arm lay across Brady’s neck and shoulders.

Brady grunted as his weight crushed her to the mattress. She chuckled, shoving his arm down so that it wasn’t covering her mouth.

He stirred, but still didn’t wake.

“So much for excellent hearing,” she whispered, rolling her eyes with a sigh.

She scooted and rolled onto her stomach, settling in and getting as comfortable as she could beneath his body. She sighed again and, smiling, fell back to sleep.

\--

Ronon burrowed toward the supply of warmth that stretched down his body. His eyes opened and he blinked, frowning as he realized that Brady was the source of that delicious warmth. He leaned away, attempting to put some distance between their bodies.

It had been a long time since he had awakened next to a woman.

Brady grunted and scooted back fully against him, her mouth going slack as she settled back into sleep.

Ronon hated to wake her—he had been trying to get her to go to sleep, after all—but he couldn’t very well stay in such a compromising position all morning.

He bent his knee, trying to feel the edge of the bed with his foot. Satisfied that he could make the distance with little disturbance to Brady, he worked his other leg out from under hers and slid his lower body to the edge of the bed. He tucked his tongue between his teeth as he tried to gently slide his arm from beneath Brady’s head.

Brady sighed and rolled toward him, laying her hand on the exposed skin between his shirt and the waistband of his breeches. Her touch on his bare skin had him panicking. He cleared his throat and nudged her shoulder.

“Brady?”

Brady opened her eyes and yawned. She blinked sleepily and peered up at him in confusion.

“You awake?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Brady nodded slowly, inhaling and running a hand through her short hair. “What time is it?” she mumbled, trying to see the clock.

Ronon looked over her head. “Three minutes ‘til 8.”

Brady grunted. “I hate when I wake up before the alarm goes off,” she said, burrowing her face against his side.

“It’s only three minutes,” he said.

“That just makes it worse. Stop talking.”

“You can’t possibly go back to sleep in three—“

“Shh!”

Ronon chuckled and scooted away from her, sitting up. “Come on, Brady,” he said, poking her in the ribs.

She squealed and shot him a death glare.

He stood, stretching his arms over his head. He rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side, loosening the muscles in his neck.

“C’mon,” he said, nudging the bed with his knee. His smile widened as Brady groaned and rolled, sprawling onto her back.

“Weren’t you one of the ones harassing me and wanting me to get some sleep?” she growled.

“Yeah, but it’s morning. Night is for sleeping. Day is for…” He tilted his head and shrugged as Brady’s alarm went off with a series of annoying beeps. “Working. Come on,” he said again, holding his hand down to her.

Brady scrubbed a hand over her face and scoffed out a laugh. With an exaggerated groan, she grabbed Ronon’s hand and allowed herself to be hauled from her nice warm bed.


	9. Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trippy little "episode" of alternate realities. It's kind of weird and I don't know if it works, so leave a comment and let me know! :)

## LIFE December 2006

Brady walked through the underbrush on an alien planet, carefully avoiding the twisted roots and bulbous flowers. She had arrived on Mx9-384 approximately six hours ago with Beta team.

...And she got separated from Major Lorne and the others approximately thirty minutes after that.

She had no clue how she had lost them, but in the length of time she took to stop and examine remnants of an old shelter, the team had disappeared. She tried her radio, but got nothing but static.

To her right, leaves rustled. She raised her weapon and peered into the shadows of the trees. Keeping her eyes on the spot, she slowly began moving away from it. She stumbled, tripping over a thick tangle of vines. Her head smacked against the trunk of a mossy tree.

When she woke, she heard rustling again and dazedly pushed herself to her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief as Ronon emerged from the shadows.

“Jesus, Ronon,” she said, resting a hand against the spongy moss that covered the large tree. “What are you doing here? Did you guys find Lorne?”

Ronon advanced on her without a sound. Not even the leaves stirred. Brady took an instinctive step back. Something was wrong here.

“Are...are you ok?”

He remained silent, his face blank. An overwhelming sense of panic stole over Brady and she turned to run. He caught her by the shoulders as she did so, pulling her back and slamming her against the tree. Brady gasped and fought as she saw the unnatural blackness that covered his eyes. His fingers pinched into her skin as he held her against the tree. Brady struggled against him, biting back tears as her muscles screamed beneath his grip.

“Ronon!” she screamed.

“Brady! Brady, wake up!”

Brady bolted upright in bed, panting hard and shirking away from Ronon’s touch. She brought a shaky hand to her sweaty forehead, slicking her hair away from her face. She looked down at the long red strands, confused.

“Are you alright?”

Brady looked up at Sheppard, her eyes wide. “I...Yeah. I guess.” She looked around, frowning as she realized she was in the infirmary. Ronon stood next to Sheppard. “Why am I here?”

“Just...hold off on the questions until Carson checks you out,” Sheppard said, holding up a hand. “I’ll be right back.” He gave Ronon a look that she couldn’t read and stepped out of the curtained area.

“Why am I here?” she asked again, looking hard at Ronon. “What’s going on, Ronon?”

He perched on the edge of her bed and gently took hold of her shoulders, pushing her back against the stack of pillows behind her head. “Take it easy,” he said quietly.

Brady flinched as the curtain whipped aside and Carson swept in, followed closely by Sheppard.

“Somebody had better tell me what the hell I’m doing here,” she demanded as Carson shined a light in her eyes.

“Follow my finger,” he said, ignoring her. She scowled, following his finger with her eyes. He sighed and gave a dimpled smile. “Welcome back, Dr. Thatcher.”

“Back from what?” Brady asked. “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you remember? The last thing?”

Brady frowned and thought back. “Um...I was with Beta on Mx9-384. But I got separated. What?” she asked when Ronon swore and looked pleadingly at Beckett. Sheppard looked away from her and Brady pushed herself into a sitting position. “What am I missing?”

“Brady, dear,” Carson said calmly. “We lost Beta team over a year ago. You were the only surviving member of that expedition.”

“What?” she squeaked. She looked around helplessly. “Have I been in a coma?”

“No, love,” Carson said, shaking his head. “Definitely not. You’re just overly tired right now, but I’m sure your memories will all come back to you. I’m going to give you something to help you sleep a bit,” Carson said. “I’m sure you’ll feel better after.”

Ronon, who had not said anything since Beckett’s arrival, stood and left the curtained area. It looked as though he had tears in his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, however, because whatever Beckett was injecting into her IV was spreading delicious warmth over her body, making everything hazy and lulling her to sleep.

\--

Brady rolled over, wincing as her IVs pulled taut. She glanced over her shoulder at the machine, sighing. The curtain around her bed wafted and she heard Ronon’s hushed voice.

“Is she gonna be alright, doc?”

“She’ll be fine, son,” Carson said. “It’s just gonna take some time. You need to worry about yourself for a bit. You could use some rest of your own.”

“I’ll sleep when she’s out of the infirmary.”

“Ronon, you can’t keep on this way. What’s happened with Kilara—“

“Don’t.”

There was an obvious threat in the savage tone of the word. Brady could hear Carson sigh.

“Listen to me,” he said. “Brady is suffering from what we call Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s very common to have memory loss, especially if the memories are directly related to the subject of the traumatic event. Let me take care of her. I want you to go and get some sleep, and then you can come back.”

“I’m not leaving—“

“You’ll do as I damn well say,” Beckett said. Brady had only ever heard him use such a stern voice once, when he was correcting one of his interns from something that would have resulted in killing the patient the man had been working on. “Don’t think to cower me on this,” he continued. “Use your size all you want to, but I’ll go over your head and talk to Sheppard if I have to.” His tone softened. “Ronon, just for a few hours. Please.”

Brady heard the curtain snap aside and promptly closed her eyes, faking sleep. She felt a large, warm hand on her hair, lightly stroking the tresses. Ronon gently trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“She’ll be ok?” he asked Beckett.

“She’ll be fine,” Carson promised. “Her vitals are good. The only hiccup is the memory loss, but as I said, it’s fairly common with this type of disorder.”

“Ok,” Ronon said hesitantly. “I’ll go to my quarters, but I want you to call me if she wakes.”

“I’ll call you if she asks for you.”

“Beckett—“

“No, Ronon. You’re risking your health on top of everything else. Now it’s been four days since the funeral and you’ve not left her side. You’ve had too much that you took on alone. So unless she asks for you directly, consider yourself banned from my infirmary until you’ve gotten some sleep.”

There was a crash and the sound of metal tinkling on the floor. Brady assumed that Ronon had slapped the tray of tools off the table. She heard the rings of the curtain slide and Ronon’s boots stomping out of her area.

“You can roll over now.”

Brady sighed and carefully turned onto her back. “How’d you know I was faking?”

Beckett smiled. “Your shoulders were tensed. Do you feel like having a shower? To be honest, dear...you look a’fright,” he said with a grin.

“A shower would be great,” Brady said.

She stood carefully and let the nurse lead her to the infirmary’s shower room. The water felt wonderful against her skin and with the help from the nurse, she managed to wash her hair. Feeling a little better, she dressed in a fresh hospital gown and went back to her bed. Carson was still in her area, waiting to recheck her vitals.

“Carson,” she said as he checked her pulse. “Why do I have PTSD? Whose funeral was four days ago?”

At first, she didn’t think he was going to answer her. He lowered his stethoscope and looked at the floor for a long moment before finally pulling a stool over and perching on it.

“A week ago,” he began. “Atlantis was attacked. We didn’t have our shields up and there was quite a bit of damage done to the outer structure of the city.”

“There shouldn’t have been any personnel out there,” Brady said.

“Not there, no. The strike also targeted the Jumper bays.”

“Oh, God,” Brady whispered. There was always at least twelve workers on duty in the Jumper bay. “Was anyone hurt badly?”

“Nine dead from the bays,” Beckett said, studying his hands. “Fourteen total. The shock from the blast collapsed some of the structures attached to that side of the city,” he explained. Clearing his throat, he continued. “We managed to get the shields partially raised before the next wave. Sheppard found you just off Level 3. The room you were in had caved in. It’s a miracle you survived.”

“Why can’t I remember any of this?” Brady asked, closing her eyes. She opened them again and looked at Carson. “Who is Kilara?”

He looked startled at first, but then his expression shifted to helpless sorrow. “I should probably call Ronon.”

“Forget about calling Ronon,” Brady said. “Answer me, doc. Who’s Kilara? Why’d he get so angry when you talked about her?”

“Kilara,” Beckett said, quietly, laying his hand on top of hers, “was your daughter.”

“My…my what?” Brady gasped.

“She was with you when the attack came. It was Ronon’s day to keep her, but he’d been called off-world and you’d insisted that he go.”

“Daughter,” Brady repeated dumbly. “Ronon? Ronon…”

“Ronon was her father,” Carson said. He looked at her and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, love.”

She had a daughter. She had given birth to a child and she had no memory of it. And now that child was dead.

Was it possible? Could the mind, so set on survival and self-preservation, block all memory of a certain association?

Unchecked tears slid down Brady’s face as she thought about what to say. In the end, she didn’t have to say anything.

“Let me sign you out, and I’ll take you to Ronon,” he said. When she remained motionless, he set about removing her IVs and signing her release. “Come on, Brady.”

Brady stood and let him slip a robe over her shoulders and escort her out of the infirmary. He led her to the door of a room she had never been in and waved a hand over the scanner. The doors opened with a soft whoosh.

All of her things were there and many of the things she had seen in Ronon’s room on occasion. Ronon himself was stretched out in the large bed, a frown creasing his sleeping face.

Beckett softly cleared his throat and called his name, and Ronon came awake with a violent start. He focused on Brady and rolled from the bed in one fluid motion. He looked deep into her eyes. When they filled with tears, his own followed suit and he pulled her into his arms.

Carson lightly touched Ronon’s arm before leaving the room.

“Oh, God,” Brady wept brokenly. “I’m sorry.”

Ronon’s arms tightened around her, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to control his sobs. He held her close, pressing his cheek to hers and softly shushing her.

“I don’t remember,” she whispered pitifully. “Ronon, I don’t even remember.”

“It’ll be alright,” he growled, slowly stroking her hair. “Ssh, Brady. Shh…”

“You have to tell me,” Brady said, leaning away and wiping her eyes with shaking hands. Ronon closed his hands over hers and brushed his fingertips over her knuckles. “Please, Ronon.”

He nodded, leading her over to the bed. He sat, pulling her down into his lap and cradling her close to him. He leaned his forehead against hers while he gathered his thoughts before finally sitting up and brushing his lips over her brow. Brady, having no recollection of such an intimate relationship with him, was surprised by the affectionate gesture.

“When Beta didn’t check in, Weir sent us to recover. We found the team’s remains two miles from the Gate to the east,” he said, staring blankly. He swallowed and continued. “You were a quarter-mile to the south. You were unconscious when we found you. I…I don’t think I’d ever been so scared,” he admitted. “You were in sick bay for a few days—concussion and exposure. When you got out, we attended the funeral for the members of Beta.”

“What made us…I mean, how did we…”

Ronon’s lips curved into a half-smile. “It was a very dark time here,” he said. “People needed comfort.”

“Oh.”

“We’d been ignoring it for a long time,” Ronon said. “The time was right. Anyway,” he said with a shrug. “You came to me a few months later with news about the baby.”

“I don’t understand how I can have had a baby and not remember it,” Brady said miserably.

“It’ll come back, _quo’l kai_,” he said, using a Satedan term of endearment.

“Tell me about her,” Brady said. “Please.”

“She was beautiful,” Ronon said with a sorrowful smile. “Dark curls and dimples, and bright eyes. Beautiful,” he said again. “Her name was Kilara Jane. You insisted,” he added. “Kilara for my mother—“

“—and Jane for mine,” Brady said. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, sighing against the side of his neck. “I want to remember, Ronon.”

“You will,” he said. “You have to give it time, Brady.”

He lightly stroked her back with his fingertips. He angled his head down and kissed her cheek.

“I thought I’d lost everything,” he whispered. Ronon placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head so that she would look at him. His eyes searched her face, finally settling on her mouth. “If I had lost you...”

Brady sat up, placing her hands on his cheeks. Slowly she leaned forward, closing the distance between their lips. She kissed him softly.

“I’m sorry,” she said against his mouth.

Ronon shook his head. He cupped her head when she tried to pull away, holding her to him as he gently, but thoroughly, kissed her.

Brady lost herself in him. She shifted on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. For a long time she had wondered what kissing him would be like, but she never imagined it would evoke such a primal reaction in her.

Ronon leaned away and took hold of her arms, pulling back. “Wait,” he panted.

Brady, awkward and embarrassed, pulled away and stood. She silently cursed herself. Ronon—_this_ Ronon—had lost a child only a week ago and, for all intents and purposes, lost the woman he had lived with as well. And here she was, fresh from the infirmary—still in her gown, no less!—going at it like a teenager after prom.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I—“

Ronon’s hands closed around her shoulders and he turned her to face him. “Do not say that again,” he ordered, his eyes shining. He softened his tone and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over the smooth skin. “Stop apologizing to me, Brady. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t mean to...attack you,” she said, looking away.

Ronon offered her a small smile. “I kissed you first, remember?”

Brady turned and put a couple of steps between them. “I...I don’t know this life. I don’t remember ever kissing you. I guess I just kinda forgot myself.”

She felt him approach, the heat from his body warming the fleece robe Carson had given her. His arms came around her waist and held her close.

“Sometimes people need to forget,” he whispered against her ear. He trailed his lips down the column of her throat and kissed her skin even as his hands untied the belt of her robe.

“But you pulled away,” Brady said confusedly, holding her breath and leaning against him.

“Because I wanted to make sure you were ok,” he said, slipping the robe from her shoulders and snapping the ties on her hospital gown.

“Oh.” It wasn’t a word as much as it was a soft exhalation, as Ronon’s lips tasted the skin of her shoulders.

Ronon’s brows furrowed as his fingertips brushed over a dark bruise on Brady’s back. She winced, turning in his arms. She slipped her fingers beneath the hem of his coarse brown shirt, bunching the material and pulling it over his head. Her hands explored the planes of his chest and stomach. Ronon slipped the infirmary gown down her arms, leaving her bare to him from the hips up. He bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed where he gently laid her in the center.

She opened her arms for him, wrapping them around his shoulders as he stretched over her. Her fingers brushed the horrid scars on his shoulder blade, a reminder of his years as a Runner. His skin quavered beneath her touch.

He brushed a hand over her brow, smoothing back a lock of hair.

“Have I ever said I love you?” Brady asked.

Ronon smiled down and kissed her. “Yes,” he said.

“Have you ever said it back?”

He kissed her again, trailing a hand slowly down her ribs. “In every kiss,” he said, catching her bottom lip teasingly. “And every touch.”

Tears pricked Brady’s eyes and she smiled against his mouth. His fingers tickled the sensitive skin at her hip as he pushed at her remaining clothes.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Ronon’s lips curved into a lazy smile and he plunged a hand into her hair, holding her for a deep, heartrending kiss as he tore away the scrap of cotton between them. Brady gasped into his mouth as the soft leather of his pants brushed against her thighs. He kissed a trail down her throat, his fingers stroking her skin in light, fluttering caresses.

She closed her eyes as sensations swarmed her. Letting go of everything, she allowed herself to be loved.

\--

Later, Brady fought sleep, not wanting to miss a second of the peaceful feeling that surrounded her. She and Ronon lay curled up in the middle of their bed. He lay on his back and she was using his outstretched arm for a pillow, idly playing with his fingertips. His breathing was deep and even, the bed moving slightly with each breath he took. Brady yawned and scooted closer to his side. He reacted to her in his sleep, rolling and draping his other arm around her waist. Brady sighed as his warmth engulfed her. Unable to fight any more, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

When she dreamed, it was dark. She was bound, arms and legs, completely unable to move. The air was dank and all around her unseen things moved in the shadows. She looked to the left, choking back a scream as she set eyes on a body, pale as death, lying beside her. There was another on her right side. She could not tell if they were alive, but they were bound in some sort of cocoon up to their chins.

Brady struggled against her restraints, peering through the darkness at the body to her right. She recognized the face now—Evan Lorne. Even as her lips formed the words for a half-whispered denial, his blue eyes popped open wide.

This time, she screamed.

She came awake with a shriek. Ronon sat up beside her, his gun drawn and ready. He lowered it when he realized there was no threat. He tucked it back beneath his pillow and took Brady’s shaking shoulders in his hands, drawing her back to him. He encircled her with his arms and laid them back down.

“What happened?” he asked sleepily. “What was it?”

“I dreamed I was back on 384,” she said, sighing and struggling for composure. “Lorne was there. We were being held. It...it just startled me, that’s all. I thought he was...dead, but then his eyes opened.”

“It’s ok,” Ronon said, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “It was just a dream.”

“Was it?”

“What do you mean?” Ronon asked, looking down at her.

“What if it was a memory? From the planet? That would be good, right? I mean, that’d mean that some of it was coming back.”

“Brady, we found Lorne’s team in a completely different location than you,” he said. “It couldn’t have been a memory.”

“No,” she said, laying her head back down. “No, I suppose not.”

“Go back to sleep,” Ronon said with a smile. “I’ll be here to keep the nightmares away.”

Brady smiled back absently, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. The dream felt entirely too real to be just another dream. Her mind went into overdrive, analyzing everything she could remember.

Mx9-384. The ruined building. The missing team. The forest. The vines. Rustling. The tree...she hit her head. Rustling...then the infirmary.

_No,_ she thought. She’d been dreaming before she woke in the infirmary. She’d called out to Ronon.

Slowly, Brady opened her eyes. What if none of it was real? She raised her eyes to study his sleeping face. To the best of her remembrance, it looked exactly as it was supposed to.

She frowned, silently wondering if she was going crazy. Maybe Carson was right. Maybe it was all due part of the aftereffects of a traumatic event.

She shook her head, stilling as Ronon stirred in his sleep. No, she knew that something was very wrong. Sliding away from him, she left the bed. She padded to the closet and pulled out her favorite pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt. She left the bedroom and made her way down the corridor toward her office. It, too, was as she remembered it.

“What would Daniel do?” she asked herself, crossing her arms loosely as she scanned her office. Her eyes landed on her bookshelf.

Crossing to it, she pulled out the catalogue of artifacts that she had been working on before the mission to Mx9-384. She turned the pages until she got past the ones she remembered and examined the ones listed after.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, examining the list. She sank to her chair and dropped the book on the desk. She recognized the artifacts listed, but not because she remembered working on them for the past year.

“What are you doing?”

Brady jumped at the sound of Ronon’s voice in the doorway.

“Oh, um...I was just...” She shuffled around some papers and shrugged. “Just trying to get a grip on what I had been working on. Before the attack.”

“I don’t think Beckett wants you working yet,” he said, taking the book out of her hands. He held his hand out to her, smiling. “Come on.”

All she had to do was take his hand and pretend that everything was going to be ok until she had more information. She took his hand and followed him to the door.

She couldn’t do it.

She pulled her hand away. “Where am I?” she demanded.

Ronon looked back at her, his brow creased with worry. “You’re in your office,” he said. “Brady, maybe we should go back to the infirmary,” he suggested.

“Where’s your tattoo?” she asked suddenly, pointing a finger at him.

“What tattoo?”

She closed her eyes, clearly picturing the Satedan tribal that decorated his lower back. “You know what tattoo,” she said. “I didn’t notice it earlier.”

With a scoff and a shake of his head, Ronon lifted the hem of his shirt and turned around, showing her his tattoo. “Satisfied?”

Brady stilled, all expression sliding from her face. “Yes.”

Ronon frowned, and then smiled. “There is no tattoo on the Satedan’s back, is there?” he asked. He eyed her, lifting his hands and clapping slowly. “Very impressive. So you’ve figured it all out, have you?”

“No,” Brady said. “Not even close. But the book of artifacts...most of the ones that I supposedly worked on in the last year were details from my time at SG-1. The catalogue numbers were changed, but, well, the truth’s in the details. So I figured that whatever was going on was somehow tapped in to my memory.”

“As I said, very impressive,” Ronon said. He stepped away from the door, his hands in his pockets, looking the picture of ease. “I suppose the question is, what do we do with you now?”

“I guess ‘let me go’ wouldn’t be a viable suggestion,” Brady said.

Ronon laughed. “No, I’m afraid not,” he said. He perched on the end of her desk, crossing his ankles. When he looked at her again, his eyes were solid black. “Was it really so terrible being here? You love these people. You love this man,” he said, waving a hand toward himself. “Why not stay and live your life?”

“You’re the genius who came up with the idea of a dead child,” Brady said. “You should have known—“

“Human children can be made a dozen times over,” Ronon said with a sigh. “The point of that particular addition was to bring you closer to Ronon. And it worked, for a while.”

“It did,” she said, swallowing the grief that came with knowing that what she and Ronon shared hadn’t been real. “But you can’t have expected me to sit idly by regardless of the fact that I had a year’s worth of memories missing.”

“It was poor judgment on our part,” Ronon said.

“Why? Why do any of this?” she asked.

“Because,” Ronon said, straightening. He looked bored. “It is easier to feed from one who is unconscious. Also, in the case of humans, you stay alive longer because your body runs on half power, so to speak.”

“What are you?” Brady breathed. She was, for the first time in a long time, truly terrified.

“I am everything,” Ronon said, smiling. The smile slipped from his face as he approached her.

Brady tried to back away, but found she could not. She tried to turn her face away as Ronon’s fingers trailed down her cheek, but even that movement was restricted.

“Fascinating creatures, humans,” Ronon whispered. “So much...emotion. So much feeling. One touch can please, soothe, hurt...” He traced her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Fascinating creatures,” he said again, closing the distance between their mouths.

Brady tried to struggle, but there was no use. She was a prisoner in her own mind, caught by whatever being was kissing her with Ronon’s mouth.

“I’m sorry about this,” he whispered. “Or, I would be were I human. I’m sure I would feel the utmost regret.”

Brady cried out in pain, clenching both hands to her abdomen and collapsing to the ground. It felt as though a vise was closing over her body threatening to snap her completely in two.

“Stop!” she cried, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Please, stop!”

“I offered you a slow, happy life,” Ronon shouted, kneeling beside her. “You threw it back in my face.”

It was hard to breathe. Brady rolled onto her back, trying to ease the pressure around her middle. The heaviness spread down her thighs and up her chest, radiating from her stomach. Her vision wavered, blinking bright white to black. Before things went dark, Brady saw Ronon’s head snap up as if he were a dog on the scent of a rabbit.

Suddenly she was surrounded by darkness and breathing damp, stale air. She felt spongy, wet earth beneath her, giving beneath the pressure being exerted on her body. She recognized the smell of the room from her dream.

Not a dream, she realized, but reality. This is where she really was. Which meant—

She turned her head to the side, peering through the darkness at Major Lorne. She closed her eyes, relieved, before struggling against the binds that were dragging her further into the soil.

“Lorne!” she shouted. “Major Lorne! Evan! Wake up!”

Something slithered up her chest and Brady recoiled as it tried to wrap around her throat. She realized with a stunning horror that it was not ropes that held her bound, but vines.

“Wake up!” she shouted again, crying out as the slender vine tightened its hold on her throat.

“Brady!”

She turned her head to the side, listening. Somewhere in the distance, she heard shouts. Someone was calling her.

“Here!” she croaked, trying to scream. She wheezed in a breath and coughed as the vines tightened on her chest and stomach.

“Brady?”

She jerked her head to the side as much as she could, looking at Lorne. “Hurry,” she breathed. “Others...yell.”

Lorne began shouting and Brady heard a familiar rustling as the vines that entangled him tightened and adjusted to cut off his air. Her own breathing was nothing more than short pants, but she was aware of the sound of other team members waking around her. They too began shouting. She heard the distinct sound of P90 fire from somewhere nearby as she took her last gasping breath.

\--

Death hurt like a _bitch_.

Brady tried to move and instantly regretted tensing her muscles. She opened her eyes, clenching them closed again as white light stabbed at her pupils. She said a word that would have gotten her mouth slapped by her Gran, and then said it again in her head because it felt like she’d swallowed a bucket of razorblades.

Where the hell was the angel chorus?

“Doctor Beckett!”

Brady’s eyes clenched tighter and she flinched as someone screamed in her ear. She slowly opened her eyes and scowled at Carson and the slender nurse that hovered over his shoulder.

“Brady, can you hear me?”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod, wincing as the movement caused her pain.

“Follow my finger,” Carson said. Brady obliged, following his fingertip as he waved it in front of her face. He gave her a dimpled smile. “Welcome back, love.” Beckett looked at the nurse. “Alert Dr. Weir that she’s awake but still under my supervision,” he said.

“Um...Dr. Beckett, should I lift the ban?”

Beckett looked at Brady. “D’you feel like entertaining visitors? Go ahead and tell them,” he said to the nurse, not bothering to wait for Brady’s response.

As if she could have made one.

“You’ve been out for three days,” Carson said. “I’ll admit, I was a wee worried at the start, but once we got you stabilized I knew you’d come around.”

“What about—“ Brady coughed, groaning as the action irritated her raw throat.

“The team? They’re all doing well. We had a few close calls, but you were the worst of them.”

“It was the damndest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sheppard said, jerking her curtain aside. “And that’s saying something.” He saw that she wanted to say something and waved his hands. “You think you can write?”

Brady nodded and he passed her a pad and pen. _What happened?_ she wrote.

“I’ll tell ya what happened,” Sheppard began, getting fired up.

“It’s actually quite interesting,” McKay said, stepping from behind Sheppard. “Every tree on that planet was actually attached to one central root system, and—“

“In a nutshell,” Sheppard interrupted. “You guys were almost Miracle-Gro.”

_It tried to eat us?_

“Yep, tried to eat you and nearly succeeded, especially with you. According to Lorne’s report it tapped into your heads so that you didn’t really realize nothing was out of the ordinary, except for nightmares when you slept—which was really when you were awake and conscious of your surroundings. He said he was painting a Caribbean sunset when he heard you shrieking at him from outta nowhere.”

_I don’t shriek_, she wrote, arching a brow.

“What it was actually doing was absorbing you. It’s a very complex life form,” McKay said. “Not like an everyday houseplant, that’s for sure.”

“Long story short,” Sheppard said. “We would have lost the entire team if you hadn’t gotten Lorne to wake up. If they hadn’t started shouting, I doubt we’d have ever found you.” He cocked his head to the side. “How’d you get out, anyway?”

_Seymour didn’t know who he was messing with_, she wrote with a small smile, referring to the killer plant on Little Shop of Horrors.

“We should probably let her relax for a bit,” Carson said. “She should be right as rain in no time. I’ll check her in the morning and most likely release her.”

“Good,” Sheppard said. “We’ve got a lot of stuff backlogged for you to go through,” he said with a wink.

“Here,” Carson said, passing her a paper cup with a silky pink liquid in it. “Drink this. It’ll help your throat.”

She drank it, making a face as the taste made her shudder. Beckett injected her IV with a something clear and soon she was sleeping peacefully.

\--

“Hey.”

Brady smiled and looked over her shoulder at Ronon, who stood in her doorway. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Just get out?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Carson wants me to take it easy for a few days, but he let me out.”

“That’s good. So...man-eating plant,” he said, entering her quarters and leaning against the wall. “Only you would stumble across a planet with a man-eating plant.”

“Shut up,” she said good-naturedly. “It was scary as hell.”

“I bet. So what part did I play in your alter-reality?”

“What?” Brady asked, fumbling the books she had been stacking. She winced as the movement jostled her ribs.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “What makes you think you had any part in my alter-reality?”

“One of the Marines remembered waking up one time when you said my name. Apparently you were held pretty close to him.”

Brady scoffed. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“You sure?” Ronon asked, pushing away from the wall. “You’re acting kinda flustered.”

“Fine,” Brady said, tossing her hair off her forehead. “You and I...uh…the plant’s consciousness took your form,” she said, unable to tell the whole truth.

Ronon looked troubled by this announcement, which surprised Brady.

“It hurt you while it looked like me?” he asked.

Brady shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, not that I was aware of.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased. “I guess I’ll let you get back to your R&R,” he said.

“Ok,” she said. “Hey, Ronon,” she called when he turned.

She crossed to him, stepping out into the hall and nibbling her lip. She stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes. Her gaze traveled south, landing on his mouth. Without a word, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, but his taste invaded her senses. She smiled and stepped back.

“What...?”

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he asked, shaken.

“For being you,” she replied. She waved her hand in front of the sensor on the door, closing it with a smile.


	10. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-death ahead. Be warned.

## SUNDAY Jan 15, 2007

Brady tossed her book aside and heaved a weary sigh. She was all but drooling over a cache of artifacts that had been brought back after Major Smith’s trip to M91-Y73, but Dr. Heightmeyer had instituted a mandatory day of rest for everyone on Atlantis. So instead of delving headlong into cataloguing and translation, Brady was in her quarters, alone, attempting to read a vampire novel that her sister had sent in her last care package.

How was this supposed to make her relax? She hated to be the one to break it to Heightmeyer, but if anything her day off was detrimental to her well-being. She was bored, and Brady had never dealt well with boredom.

As a child, boredom had allowed her to learn imaginary languages of Tolkien and the like. As a teenager, a boring day had usually ended with a new piercing. As an adult…well, her first day off after working at the SGC had resulted in a midnight call to Daniel for bail money. After that, she’d tried to be more responsible.

Still, if she didn’t find something to do soon, she’d be inciting her coworkers to take part in Jello shots in the mess hall.

She didn’t think the brass would be willing to overlook that again.

Brady sighed and rolled off her bed, grabbing her uniform jacket and slipping it on over her Optimus Prime t-shirt. She opened her door and stepped into the hallway, intent on seeking out some sort of entertainment.

She rounded the corner smiling as she saw Ronon, Sheppard, and Teyla standing around talking.

“What’s with the club?” she asked Ronon.

Ronon turned away from Sheppard and Teyla as she approached. “Sheppard’s gonna teach me and Teyla golf. She’s trying to get out of it.”

Brady’s smile broadened. He sounded less than exuberant about his plans for the day.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” she said, her voice ringing with amusement.

“You know, it _will_ be fun,” Sheppard said, looking back at her.

“If you would like, I could cancel—“ Teyla began, but Sheppard shook his head.

“No, no no no. She could use a little time out of the office,” he said. “Some other time,” he added with an indulgent smile.

“Some other time,” Teyla agreed. She smiled and continued past him, stepping between Brady and Ronon. She winked at Brady and glanced at Ronon, her smile taking on a somewhat triumphant gleam.

Brady chuckled as Ronon’s lips curved in an answering sour smile.

“You know, John, I’ve got mission reports too,” Ronon said, looking innocently at Sheppard.

“Nice try,” Sheppard replied tartly. “Brady, care to join us?”

“Mmm…much as I’d love to, Shep, I’m gonna have to take a rain check,” Brady said, looking disappointed. “I might come find you guys later though.”

“It’s gonna be fun,” Sheppard said, turning and walking away.

“Fun,” Ronon repeated. “Uh huh…” He looked at Brady beseechingly. “Help me.”

“Aw,” she said, patting his shoulder. “It’ll be ok. You might enjoy it.”

Ronon sighed. Resigned, he turned away from Brady and trudged after Sheppard.

Brady walked casually down the corridor, taking the transporter at the end. If she happened to end up on the hall where her office was located, it was purely coincidental, she thought to herself.

And if she happened to wander into her office, well…there was no rule that said she couldn’t just hang out in there…

And if she just happened to pick up one of the ornate artifacts from M91-Y73, then—

“What are you doing?”

Brady flinched guiltily as Elizabeth addressed her. She set the artifact back on her desk and cleared her throat.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just, uh, came to get…” She looked on her desk for something to finish her lie, but naturally there was nothing useful to be found. She sighed. “Ok, fine. I was just going to analyze this one little thing.”

Weir arched a brow and smirked. “No work today,” she said. “If I can’t, you can’t.” She smiled and jerked her chin toward the hall. “Out.”

Brady sighed. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Come on,” she said. “Surely there is something you can find—not related to work—that you can occupy yourself with.”

“I guess I can go watch Sheppard teach Ronon to golf,” Brady said.

“That has the potential to be entertaining,” Weir agreed.

“I got $20 that says Ronon breaks at least one of Shep’s clubs, but nobody’s taking.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Weir said sarcastically. “Well, enjoy your day. And no working, got it?”

Brady saluted and shuffled down the corridor. She took the transporter back to the level where Sheppard had established his driving range and made her way to the balcony.

She stepped out in time to see Ronon whack the golf ball with a one-handed swing. The ball disappeared.

“Whoa!”

Brady stepped out to stand beside Jim Watson, one of McKay’s young underlings.

“Holy crap,” she said.

Ronon turned to smile at Sheppard. He had an unmistakable air of smugness about him.

“That was…ok,” Sheppard said, trying to sound unruffled.

“Ok?” Watson cried. “You can’t even see where it landed!”

“He’s got a point, Sheppard,” Brady said.

“Well, it’s not a distance game,” Sheppard replied. “It’s an accuracy one.”

“Well, pick a spot,” Ronon said carelessly. “I’ll hit it there.”

Sheppard shook his head in agitation. “First off, your grip—it’s all wrong,” he said, stepping over to show Ronon how to hold his club properly.

The doors opened and Carson strode out. “Gooood morning, all,” he said cheerily.

“Hey,” Brady replied. She kept her attention on Sheppard and Ronon, watching with amusement as they butted heads.

Watson left the area and Sheppard did a practice swing, showing Ronon how to follow through.

“What’s up, Carson?”

“Fishing,” Beckett said. “Rodney and I are heading to the mainland to catch a fish that seems to be just like a trout,” he said excitedly. “Care to join us?” he asked the trio. “Sport of kings.”

Brady looked dubious.

“I thought horse racing was the sport of kings,” Sheppard said.

“For the boring kings, maybe,” Beckett said.

Brady laughed. “Thanks for the invite, Carson, but I’d probably end up drowning McKay before the day was over.”

“Carson, you’re Scottish. This is your game. Wouldn’t you rather be on the driving range?”

“Och, it was never my thing. Come on…last chance.”

“I think we’re gonna pass,” Sheppard said.

“Alright,” Beckett said. “But don’t be jealous when I return with a record-breaking space trout.” He snapped his fingers. “Thank you.”

“We’ll try to contain ourselves,” Sheppard said, teeing up another shot.

Carson winked at Brady and grinned, leaving the balcony with a whistle.

“So how’s the golf lessons going?” Brady asked, tucking her tongue in her cheek.

Ronon tossed her a look and nonchalantly whacked another ball toward the horizon. He tossed his club on the ground and looked at Sheppard.

“Time for a real sport,” he said. “Come on.”

“Uh oh,” Brady said, grinning.

“You comin’?” Ronon asked, tapping her shoulder her as he passed.

Brady glanced back at Sheppard as she started to follow Ronon back through the doors. She laughed lightly as Sheppard tried to hit the ball as Ronon had done, only to have the ball splash a few yards out.

“Come on, Shep,” Brady said soothingly. She laughed again as he followed Ronon, looking disheartened.

“So what’re we playing?” he asked as they reached the transporter.

“Capture the flag,” Ronon replied, smiling.

“Oh, this so isn’t going to end well,” Brady predicted good-naturedly.

They approached the gym and Ronon tossed Sheppard some Kendo sticks. “You wanna play with us?” he asked Brady.

Yes, she thought as she caught the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Um, no. No, no,” she said, holding up her hands. “No stitches for me today, thanks. I’m just gonna watch you guys.”

Ronon bit his lip and grinned at her before turning to Sheppard and handing him a scrap of blue material.

Brady sat cross-legged against the wall as Ronon and Sheppard went through the rules—not that there were any, per se. She grimaced as Ronon attacked. The men exchanged a few blows before Ronon spun and shoved Sheppard forward, pulling the piece of material out of his back pocket.

“That’s one for me,” Ronon said triumphantly.

“Two out of three,” Sheppard said, snatching his flag back and returning to the starting position.

Brady shook her head. These two could be at this for ages.

“Round two,” Ronon said. “One handed.”

“What?!” Sheppard demanded as Ronon put his hand behind his back.

Ronon explained that after every round, the level of difficulty increased. “Round two—one handed,” he repeated.

Brady absently wished she had some popcorn or something. This testosterone-induced brain failure was way better than any movie.

Sheppard put his hand behind his back. Brady was unable to hold back the sympathetic groan as Ronon kneed Sheppard in the stomach.

“Jeez!”

Ronon grabbed Sheppard’s flag as Sheppard doubled over and stumbled away.

“That’s two for me.”

“Three out of five,” Sheppard croaked.

“Guys…” Brady said in disbelief. “There is no way you can think this is fun.”

“It’s a blast,” Sheppard said, snatching his flag again.

“Round three,” Ronon said, putting his arm behind his back again. He waited a second and lifted his leg, tucking his foot against the side of the opposite knee.

“Oh, come on! You are making this stuff up!” Sheppard said. “This is not a traditional Satedan sport. This is an excuse to make me look dumb and kick my ass.”

Ronon shrugged and glanced at Brady with a knowing smile. “If you wanna quit…”

Sheppard sighed and Ronon turned, returning to position. Sheppard mirrored his stance. They battled for a few seconds before Sheppard was sprawled on his back on the floor.

“Sorry,” Ronon said, his grin saying otherwise.

Brady stood, shaking her head with a wince. “Sorry guys,” she said. “I’m out. This is hurting me and I’m not even playing,” she said with a smile. “Let me know how it turns out,” she said, opening the door.

“See you,” Ronon said with a small wave. He looked down at Sheppard.

“This game sucks.”

Brady chuckled and left the gym. Her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. She decided to go to the mess hall and grab some lunch.

She walked down the hall toward the cafeteria, smiling as Beckett rounded the corner.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” she asked.

“Rodney rain-checked,” he said with a smile and roll of his eyes. “So I’m off to find another lucky soul who wants to go fishing. Any suggestions?”

“Not that I can think of,” Brady said apologetically. “Sorry.”

Carson waved her apology away. “Not a problem. I suppose if I can’t find anyone there’s always next week.”

“True,” Brady agreed.

“So where are you headed? I figured you’d be spending your time glued to a certain Satedan,” Beckett teased.

Brady blushed. “Shut up.”

“So I take it you’ve still not moved past the friend stage?”

“Who said we need to?” Brady asked. “We’re comfortable with each other. No need to risk screwing that up is there?”

“Not at all, love,” Carson said. “It’s just that…well, maybe it wouldn’t be screwing anything up at all. If, God forbid, something happened to either of you tomorrow, wouldn’t it be worth it to have at least a taste of something more than friendship?”

Brady mulled over this thought and sighed. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a fishing partner?” she said, nudging Beckett with her shoulder.

His brilliant dimpled smile returned.

“Aye,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, dear.”

“You too, Carson,” she said. “Good luck! Bring me a space fish.”

“Will do,” he said with a wave.

Brady sighed again and continued to the mess hall, her mind still turning over Carson’s theory. She didn’t try to deny that she felt drawn to Ronon. It was more than physical attraction, although she didn’t try to deny that either. Still…it was deeper.

Unfortunately, Brady had zero skills when it came to gauging whether or not people were into her. She was fairly certain that Ronon had a soft spot for her, but that was a far cry different than being attracted to her. He had never even mentioned the time she kissed him.

No longer concerned with eating in the cafeteria, Brady grabbed a sandwich and bottle of water before making her way back to her quarters.

There had been a woman on Sateda that Ronon had cared for greatly who had died. He’d spoken of her briefly one night while playing cards when neither of them could sleep. There’d been a sadness in his voice that night.

Brady was lost in her thoughts when an explosion shook the entire level. She followed the streams of personnel until she reached the blast site. She rushed to Carson’s side and helped his medics get a man onto a gurney just as Ronon and Sheppard rushed into the corridor.

“What happened here?” Ronon asked, stepping aside as a medic rushed past.

“Some sort of explosion,” Beckett said, rushing around the corridor. “At least three dead, maybe a dozen or so severely injured.”

The medic Ronon had stepped aside for called for Beckett. They hurried over to a stretcher that was being carried away from the wreckage.

“Teyla,” Beckett said.

“Oh my God,” Brady breathed, noticing the bloodstained bandage that circled the woman’s torso.

“Carson?”

“I’m here,” Beckett said, holding Teyla’s hand. “You’ve been in an explosion, Teyla, and a piece of debris has impacted your side. We’re headed to the infirmary to take it out and patch you up. Easy peasy,” he said, smiling. “I can do this one in my sleep.”

He wouldn’t look at Sheppard as he passed, but Brady managed to catch his eye. Her stomach clenched at the fear in them.

“McKay,” Sheppard said into his earpiece. “I need information and I need it now!”

“We’re working on it,” McKay said. “Get to my lab.”

“Come on,” Sheppard barked, hurrying down the corridor.

“Brady,” Ronon called when she didn’t follow them.

“You go,” she replied. “I’m going to see if I can help out here.”

A strange expression crossed his face and he hesitated as if he was not sure whether he was going to leave. With a frustrated growl, he turned and rushed after Sheppard.

Brady helped the other volunteers clear the area and get the wounded to the infirmary. After ushering a soldier with a broken leg to the sick bay, she made her way to McKay’s lab, opening comms as she went.

“It _is_ possible, Carson,” McKay was saying. Look, you need to get you and your team out of there! Sheppard has an ordnance disposal crew on the way.”

“Well, he’s too fragile to move right now,” Beckett replied.

She entered the lab and stood next between Ronon and Radek, listening on her headset to the conversation between Rodney and Carson.

“He doesn’t have to move,” Mckay said. “You do.”

Brady jumped, reflexively grabbing Ronon’s arm as the lockdown alarm began to sound.

Sheppard turned to a monitor and studied it. He swore quietly. “He’s used his authorization code to seal off the whole level. We can’t get to him.”

“Carson,” McKay barked. “You cannot seriously be considering operating on this guy!”

“Exactly how much time do we have?”

“There is no way to know for sure,” McKay replied. “Look, Hewston was infected at the same time that Watson was and her tumor’s already exploded.”

Brady wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but concern about what Carson was doing overshadowed anything else.

“Right,” Beckett said. “No time to waste then. Making first incision…”

“Ok look,” McKay said, quieter now. “This is all very brave and all, but…”

“What if the explosion causes structural damage?” Sheppard interjected when Rodney hesitated. “What if the tower comes down with everyone in it?”

“Sending him to the other side of the city and just leaving him there is tantamount to murder, colonel.”

“The man is already dead!” McKay shouted frantically.

“Carson, I can’t order you to stand down,” Sheppard said slowly, “but—“

“That’s right,” Beckett interrupted. “You can’t. Have your men standing by. I’ll open access to the floor once I’ve extracted the tumor.”

“Carson—“ Brady began.

“Beckett out.”

“Carson?”

Silence.

“He’s taken off his radio,” Brady deduced. “Someone needs to go apprise Elizabeth of the situation.”

“I’m going,” Sheppard said. “McKay, come with me.”

“I’m going back to the blast site,” Brady said to Ronon. “There’ll need to be cleanup crews assigned and…I can’t just sit around while Carson’s…”

“Listen,” Ronon said, laying a hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Beckett knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t take a risk like this if he didn’t think he could remove the tumor.”

“But Rodney said it could detonate at any time,” Brady whispered. “He’s one of my best friends, Ronon.”

Ronon didn’t know what to say to that. To pretend like what Beckett was doing was no big deal wouldn’t help anyone.

The truth was, he was barely keeping it together himself. First Teyla...now Carson doing was an unbelievably dangerous thing.

If either of them didn’t make it…

“Come on,” Ronon said, absentmindedly rubbing small circles on Brady’s back. “Let’s go help cleanup.”

\--

Brady checked her watch. Fifteen minutes and counting…

“Stop looking,” Ronon said, tossing a large chunk of debris onto a makeshift cart. “Or I’m going to take your watch away from you.”

Brady gave a weak smile and went back to work. She stopped and straightened, pressing a hand to her ear as her radio kicked on. She noticed in her peripheral vision that Ronon did the same.

“Colonel Sheppard,” Carson said quietly. “I’ve extracted the tumor and I’m opening up the OR level.”

Sheppard sighed. “He’s on his way,” he said, his relief evident. “Sit tight.”

Brady heaved a sigh of her own and sat on the edge of the rubble cart. She breathed deeply and smiled up at Ronon.

“See?” he said, giving her hair a playful tug. “He did it.”

“He did it,” she repeated, standing. She gave Ronon a hug, surprised when his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She laid her cheek against the soft cloth of his shirt and inhaled slowly. Her eyes popped wide when Carson’s voice sounded in her earpiece again.

“Dammit. Tell him I’ll meet him halfway.”

“Just stay put, doc,” Sheppard instructed.

“Oh my God,” Brady said, pulling away from Ronon.

“Carson, what in the hell are you doing?” Ronon asked, talking to himself.

“The sooner I get this thing out of my sight, the better. Almost there,” he whispered.

Brady and Ronon listened anxiously as time dragged on.

“We just made the hand off,” Carson said on a sigh. Anyone listening could hear the relief in his voice.

Seconds later, another explosion rocked Atlantis.

\--

Brady placed a small plastic Scottish flag in a box of personal items that she was cleaning out of Carson’s desk. She picked up a bobble head and smiled sadly, tucking it into the box as she cleared her throat.

She heard the door open and glanced over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Ronon said quietly.

“Hey,” she answered, turning back to the task at hand.

“Um, I’m going to go see if McKay needs some help…you know, packing his quarters,” he said. “Do you…want to come?”

Brady shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “I should finish up here.”

Ronon looked as if he wanted to say something else, but instead he gave a short nod and turned to leave.

“Ronon?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. Brady looked at him, eyes shining with tears he knew she’d never shed as long as anyone was around.

She cleared her throat again. “I…thanks.”

He turned back to her, watching her intently. For the first time since she’d been on Atlantis, she looked truly vulnerable. Even in those sleepless nights after returning from the temple, she’d never seemed quite so defenseless.

Gone was the witty sprite that wore novelty tees beneath her uniform jacket and in her place was a young woman with her heart truly breaking.

“Do you want me to stay?” Ronon asked suddenly.

“Yes,” she whispered, giving him a shaky smile. “But…I just kinda need to be by myself for a few minutes. Before…before we take the casket through.”

Ronon nodded in understanding. “I’ll see you in the gateroom.”

Brady returned his nod. She turned back to Carson’s desk and the handful of personal effects. The door had barely whooshed closed before she let the tears spill down her cheeks. She gripped the side of the desk and leaned over it, clenching her teeth to hold back audible sobs. After a moment, she took a cleansing breath and got back to work.

She finished cleaning out the desk and taped up the box. She wiped her cheeks and stepped out into the hallway, passing the box to the soldier waiting outside. She then said a quick prayer for strength that her grandmother taught her and went to the gateroom.

Brady caught Rodney’s eye and gave him a small smile. He nodded in acknowledgment. For once, they were in the same boat.

Straightening her shoulders, she fixed her eyes on the wall behind the Stargate. Ronon stood on one side of her; stoic as ever, though she knew he was greatly affected by the loss of Carson.

She herself had never been good at funerals, especially when it was someone close to her. Ronon slipped his hand over hers, but she stared straight ahead, eyes never wavering, unable to look at the casket draped by a Scottish flag.

Elizabeth moved to stand next to it and gave a lovely speech. When she had finished, a piper played as the gate began to dial. The gate activated. She gave Ronon’s hand a quick squeeze before she took her place between him and McKay. Sheppard, Lorne, and Radek took their places on the other side of the casket and as the piper played a lament for Carson, the people of Atlantis watched his final trip through the Gate.


	11. Safeguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby cuddles. Giant cuddles. Giant baby cuddles.

** _ SAFEGUARD _ ** ** ** _May 2007_

“Atlantis, this is Sheppard. We've got the evacuees from Iscala rounded up and ready for relocation.” Sheppard turned and faced the crowd of people while he waited for Elizabeth's reply.

“This is Weir. The gateroom is clear. You can bring them over now, John.”

Sheppard touched his headset. “Alright, guys. Let's get 'em through,” he said, waving to Alpha team. Gamma and Sigma moved into position and began helping usher to group toward the gate. “Lorne, you and your guys make one last sweep through the villagers. Pick up stragglers if there are any.”

Lorne nodded from the edge of the crowd and waved his men back. “Want Brady too?” he asked.

“Yeah, better start rounding her up too. There's a monument in the middle of town that she's been staring at since we got here two days ago. Maybe if you tell her on your way in she'll be done assing around on the way out.”

Lorne scoffed a laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.”

–

Brady adjusted the magnifying headgear and leaned closer to the gigantic stone monument. She made a quick sketch of a couple of characters that she didn't recognize and wrote down what she could translate. She hummed along with Gordon Lightfoot, his mellow voice and melodies making perfect focusing music. She squatted down and peered at the carving.

“Brady.”

Brady jolted when someone laid a hand on her shoulder. She overbalanced and fell onto her butt, casting a peeved glare up at Lorne as she jerked out her earbuds. “What?”

“The teams are moving through. Sheppard says it's time to wrap it up,” he said.

“I'm nowhere near finished documenting this thing,” she said with a frown.

“Well, how long do you need?” Lorne asked, waving his crew past.

Brady chewed her lip and looked at the monument. “Two days?” she said hopefully.

Lorne smiled at her. “You got...twenty minutes,” he said, looking at his watch.

“Ugh. Fine,” Brady groaned.

Lorne moved on to follow his men in the sweep. Brady took out her other earbud and turned off her mp3 player and tucked it in her cargo pocket. She continued to hum but quickly jotted down as many notes as she could. She snapped a few pictures of the things she couldn't draw, pausing when she heard a strange sound in the distance. She stopped and cocked her head to the side, listening. Brady hurried to her feet and zeroed in on the sound. “Hello?”

She heard the sound again, a soft keening cry, almost like the mew of a kitten. She followed the sound down a worn path that passed as a side street and around the corner. Brady stepped into an open door and gasped. There in the empty house in the empty village, lay a baby in a basket. The child eyed Brady for a moment before letting out a quick squank of annoyance as if to say, 'Hello? You gonna get me out of his thing or what?'

Brady stared at the baby, open mouthed.

“Oh, _shit_.”

–

“Lorne! Lorne! Lorne!” Brady called, hefting the creaky basket higher onto her arm. “Dammit. Evan! Major! Hello?”

“Brady, what is it?” Lorne asked, rounding a corner with a look of concern. “What's wrong?”

Brady sat the basket on the ground and braced her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She pointed at the basket. “Found it. Radio Sheppard. Stop the villagers.”

“What are you talking about?” Lorne asked, relaxing a little once he saw there was no immediate threat. He approached the basket and peeked inside. “Holy shit. Is that a baby?” he asked, his eyes going wide.

“Well it sure isn't a box of rocks,” Brady said as she straightened.

“How does somebody _forget_ a baby?” Lorne asked, looking from her to the child and back again.

“I have no idea!” The baby squealed and flailed its arms amidst its blankets. Brady knelt down to gather the baby into her arms. She picked up the agitated bundle and gently bounced it, shushing quietly.

“Think you can get to the gate by yourself?” Lorne asked, receiving a sardonic look in return. “Ok. Well, take the baby and hurry back to Atlantis. Try to catch Alpha before they make the relocation. Do you want one of my men to escort you?”

Brady shook her head. “I've got my sidearm. There's not supposed to be anyone left on the planet anyway.”

Lorne nodded. “Be careful, Brady. We'll be right behind you.”

Brady bent and laid the baby in the basket before hefting it and walking in the direction of the stargate. She sang as she walked and gently swung the basket in a rocking motion, smiling to herself as the baby drifted off to sleep. By the time she reached the gate, dusk had fallen. She dialed Atlantis and sent her IDC through before gripping the basket tightly and stepping through.

“There you are,” Dr. Weir said with a smile as she looked down from the balcony. “We were wondering how long—“

“Has everyone from Iscalas been transferred to the new location?” Brady asked, interrupting Weir.

“Yes, they left almost immediately. What's wrong?”

Brady lifted the basket, revealing the sleeping child. “I need to get a dial-out to the relocation. Now.”

“Is that a baby?” Weir asked. She looked at Chuck. “Dial the gate.”

Brady stepped aside while the gate dialed and the event horizon opened. When the wormhole was established, she stepped back through the gate and held a hand up to shield her eyes from rain.

“Great,” she growled. The rain pattered on the basket and splashed onto the baby's cheek, startling it from sleep. The child let out an angry howl and waved its tiny fists in protest as the chilly rain pelted it. Brady sat the basket down and took off her jacket, kneeling down and draping it over the handle. “Sorry little guy. Girl. Sorry, kid,” she said. She reached up and touched her radio. “Alpha, this is Brady. Is anyone monitoring?”

“Brady, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Ronon, where's Sheppard?” Brady asked.

“He and Teyla are staying in the new village helping the elders get the people settled in,” Ronon said. “They're planning on it taking a few days.”

“You're not there? What’s your twenty?”

“About a quarter-mile out, between the village and the gate. McKay and I are heading back now because of the storm. The road's already starting to wash out. What’s going on?”

“I have to get to the village. Somebody left a baby behind,” Brady shouted over the wind and rain.

“You can't head for the—did you say baby? How the hell does somebody forget a baby?” Ronon demanded. “Look, get back through the gate. You won't make it to the village, especially carrying a baby.”

“But Ronon--”

“Dial the gate,” he yelled. “The wind's picking up, Brady. We picked a hell of a night to move these people to their new place. Get back to Atlantis. McKay and I are right behind you.”

Brady sighed and cursed, throwing a wince in the direction of the fretting child. “My bad. Don't repeat that, kid.” She hefted the basket and hurried to the DHD to dial Atlantis. The wormhole opened and she stepped through, stumbling under the weight of the basket as she landed in the gateroom.

“Why are you wet?” Weir asked. “And why do you still have that basket?”

“I'm wet because it's raining buckets on that planet,” Brady said, shaking her head like a dog. “And I've still got this basket, and the unhappy baby, because Ronon said the road is washing out and I wouldn't make it to the village. He and McKay are right behind me. Chuck, call Keller. Tell her I'm bringing this little guy—or girl, or whatever--in for a check up.”

Brady strode from the gateroom with the basket, kicking open the doors to the infirmary and hefting the basket onto an exam table. She lifted the fretting baby from the basket and gently laid it on a bed as a nurse checked its vitals.

“I don't suppose we have any diapers around here anywhere, huh?” Brady asked.

“Not that I know of, Dr. Thatcher. I suppose we can trim down some sheets and use those.” She smiled and made noises at the baby, receiving a drooly grin in return. “Poor little thing's soaked,” the nurse said. “Let me go and warm up the scanner. Dr. Keller will want to check and make sure there isn't anything internally wrong, but it won't take but a moment. As soon as that's done, I'd suggest a warm bath for the tike.”

Brady watched as the nurse scooped up the baby and bustled around the infirmary. Dr. Keller approached and did the customary woman-to-baby reaction before laying the child under the scanner. Brady chewed on her finger as the doctor ran her tests, looking every bit like a nervous mother.

“What's the doc doing?”

Brady jolted at the sound of Ronon's voice in her ear.

“She’s checking for any kind of abnormality—disease, stuff like that,” she said, glancing back at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Had to bring McKay in,” Ronon said with a shrug. “He thinks he might be allergic to something.”

“Shock,” Brady deadpanned, turning back to watch Keller and the baby. “How bad was the road to the village?”

“Pretty bad. It’s more of a path than a road, and that was a hell of a storm. McKay almost landed in a mud pit on the way back to the gate. Assuming the rain stops tomorrow, I doubt we’d get through for at least two or three days. That’s why Sheppard and Teyla decided to just stay in the village.”

“It’s a little weird, isn’t it? Somebody just forgetting a baby?” Brady asked, changing the subject and chewing on her lip.

“Don’t,” Ronon warned.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t start theorizing. It was chaotic out there today, Brady. And the village elders wanted to move immediately from here to New Iscalas, so things were also rushed. So don’t start spinning ideas about why that baby was left in the village until you have all the facts. And don’t get attached to it,” he added.

“It isn’t a stray cat, Ronon,” Brady said with a frown. “You can’t just _not_ get attached to a defenseless orphaned baby.”

“See that right there? That’s what I’m talking about,” Ronon said, pointing at her. “You don’t know that it’s orphaned. And you don’t know it’s defenseless. For all you know, it could shoot blasters out of its eyes.”

Brady arched a brow at him and scoffed, shaking her head and taking the chubby baby from Keller as she approached.

“The little lady checks out just fine,” the doctor said with a smile. “Healthy and happy, no signs of neglect or abuse, and no disease or infection. I can’t understand why she was left on that planet. It had to have been an accident.”

“Maybe,” Brady muttered. “Thanks, doc.”

“No problem,” Keller said as she turned to go. Brady placed the child back in her basket and carried it toward the exit. Ronon intercepted her, blocking her path.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going to give this baby a bath. Do you have a problem with that?”

Ronon’s countenance changed as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a smug smile. “By all means,” he said, waving her toward the door. Brady looked at him over her shoulder as he started after her.

“Where are _you_ going?” she asked.

“I’m going with you,” he said. “There’s no way I’d miss this.”

Brady tisked in annoyance and sauntered from the infirmary, ignoring Ronon as he trailed along behind her. “Not like it’s rocket science to give a baby a bath. ‘There’s no way I’d miss this’,” she repeated mockingly with a snort. “Like he could do any better,” she muttered. She waved open the door to her quarters and stepped inside, holding up her hand as Ronon approached. “I’ve got it from here, big guy,” she said, waving her doors closed. She threw him a self-satisfied grin before turning for her bathroom. As her doors swooshed shut, Brady glanced down at the baby and began chewing on her lip.

She went to her bathroom and ran the large basin sink full of warm water before setting the basket on the floor and undressing the baby. She sat the squirming child in the water, where she immediately began splashing happily. Brady made quick work of bathing the baby and wrapped her in a fluffy white towel. She looked at herself in the mirror, staring transfixed at her reflection holding the little girl and bouncing her gently.

_What was she thinking?! _She’d barely been around when her sister was a baby and aside from holding her niece a few times, she definitely didn’t have any babysitting experience. She had always—_always_—made sure there was somebody around that could take the baby if it threw up or, God forbid, pooped in its diaper. This baby didn’t even have diapers! Panic clawed at Brady’s stomach and her face crumpled at the thought of having to wash a cloth diaper.

“This is not the Roaring 20s. I’ll throw those bad boys away before I wash them,” she told the baby as she turned her in her arms. “Besides, nothing says I have to be the one to keep an eye on you, you know.” Except...it was she who had found her. That sort of made her responsible. She looked down into the baby’s intelligent green eyes and sighed. “Ok, fine. I’ll do it. If I can translate alien texts, I can take care of a baby. You can't be that much trouble, right?”

\--

Brady hurried down the corridor with the crying baby in her arms. “Ok, ok, ok, ok...shh! Shhh! It’s ok,” she chanted. “We’re almost there.”

She burst into the cafeteria and loaded up a tray with a couple of cartons of milk, a banana, and a package of mini oreos. She sat the angry baby back in her basket and placed the basket on the table before dumping the oreos into one of the milk cartons.

“Ok, here we go,” Brady cooed, spooning a dab of the soggy mixture into the baby’s mouth. She immediately perked up, squanking only when Brady took too long to put another spoon in her mouth. “Oh, Amelia!” Brady called as her friend dumped her own tray. The other woman approached with a smile.

“I heard you had a new roommate,” Amelia said, touching the baby’s cheek. “What’s up?”

“Can you squish up that banana for me? I’m almost out of oreos and she’s still hungry. She can’t have like, chicken or anything, right? I mean, do you think she’s old enough for people food?”

Amelia laughed and heaped the smashed banana onto the center of the plate. “I don’t think she’s old enough for chicken, but maybe some squishy vegetables? My mom used to feed us mashed potatoes a lot. And I wouldn’t make a habit of oreos,” she added with a grimace. “Hey, there’s a trade mission scheduled tomorrow at 0700. Maybe you could get one of the guys from Sigma to pick up some childcare supplies?”

“That’s a great idea,” Brady said. “Thanks, Amelia.”

“No problem, Brady. Have a good night.”

Brady smiled down at the baby as she sucked at the smashed banana. “We’ll get you all set tomorrow, kiddo,” she said quietly. “We'll get you some clothes, and a bottle, and maybe a binky, if people in this galaxy use binkies.” The baby looked at her, her green eyes going heavy as her hunger was sated. Brady gasped as somebody plopped down beside her. She glared at Ronon as the baby jerked to attention and all traces of sleep disappeared. “Seriously? She was just about to go to sleep!”

Ronon pilfered through the remnants on Brady's tray. “Cookies and a banana? That's what you fed her?”

“And some milk, not that it's any of your business,” Brady said, snatching away the cookie wrapper. “In case you haven't noticed, oh giant one, there isn't a grocery store on Atlantis. I can't run out and get some Gerber.”

Ronon shrugged and tugged the basket closer to him. “So...did you name her?”

“Um...well, no. I've just been calling her baby.”

“Huh,” Ronon grunted. He had a faraway look in his eye as he held his finger down for the little girl to grip in her chubby fist. She smiled and cooed up at him. “She should have a name.”

Brady smiled softly. “Wasn't it you who told me not to get attached?”

He shrugged again. “Whatever,” he said. “Just seems kinda weird to call the kid 'baby'.”

“Well...what should I call her? I mean, I presume her parents named her. If I call her Bridget or Rebekkah it'll just screw her up psychologically.”

“Brady, the kid is going to be in your care for only a few days. I might just be a hired gun, but I'm pretty sure you won't do any permanent damage--”

Brady shook her head. “I can't rename her. Ronon, I couldn't even rename my Cabbage Patch dolls when I was a kid.”

Ronon sighed and waggled his finger, bouncing the baby's fist. “Fine. It's your call,” he said, gently tugging his finger away. “Good luck, Brady.” He leaned over the basket and patted the baby's stomach. “See you around, a'ri.”

“What's that?” Brady asked.

“It's the Satedan word for baby,” he replied. “Why?”

“Can we call her that? Like, it's not technically a name,” Brady said with a smile. “A'ri,” she said, trying it out. “I like that. Do you mind?”

“I don't care,” he shrugged. He stood and stepped away from the table.

“Oh, hey. If you see Major Hastings, can you tell him I need to talk to him before his team goes on the trade mission tomorrow morning? I need to see about getting some baby stuff.”

“Yeah, I'll tell him. He's usually in the gym this time of night.”

“Thanks,” Brady said. Ronon smiled.

“I'm not telling you what to do there, little mother, but judging by the way that kid's face is turning red, I'd see about finding some clothes for her other than that blanket.”

Brady turned her horrified expression to A'ri, who was grunting in the basket. “Oh no! No, no, no!” She whirled back to Ronon, her eyes wide and pleading. “Ronon, I'm sorry I was such an ass earlier! Please, _please_ don't leave me alone. I don't have any experience with babies. And before you say it, I know I don't have to take her in since I have no idea what I'm doing but I feel responsible, plus I would feel weird just passing her off on someone else--”

Ronon came back to her and gripped the basket handle. “Alright, alright. Settle down, Brady,” he said, lifting the basket with ease. “Come on.”

“What? You mean you're gonna help me?” she squeaked, following on his heels as he strode from the cafeteria.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I'm not signing on to be a wet nurse. This is your little project. I'm just giving you a hand tonight since you're so obviously drowning. We clear?”

“Crystal,” she assured him. “Thanks, Ronon. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He looked back at her over his shoulder with a smug look. “What else is new?”

–

While Ronon cleaned up the baby and rummaged around looking for something to fashion a makeshift diaper, Brady fixed a pallet on the floor next to her bed.

“Do you want the bed or the floor?” she asked, turning to him.

“Either,” he replied. He held up a pair of black and blue striped panties.

“Can you please refrain from pawing through my underwear drawer?” Brady asked, snatching the garment from him. He snorted.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doc,” he said, yanking the panties from her hand. “They’re for the baby.” He nudged the drawer shut with his hip and stepped around her, lifting the clean baby out of the fresh blanket Brady had tucked into the basket.

She watched him effortlessly tend to the child and was struck by something she’d never thought of. “Ronon, did you have any children on Sateda?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he tied the cotton undies around the baby. After a brief hesitation, he shook his head. “No, no kids. My friend Tesh had a few. When we weren’t training, they were all he talked about.” With the temporary diaper in place, he picked up the baby and cradled her in his arms. “Children were important to Satedans. Everyone pitched in with raising them,” he said with a shrug, passing the child to Brady.

She didn’t know what to say to erase the pain that always accompanied talk of his world, so Brady remained silent. Ronon crossed to the bed and plopped down on it, kicking off his boots and tugging his tunic over his head. He lay back and draped an arm over his eyes, clearly ready for sleep. Brady tore her gaze away from his toned torso and looked down into the eyes of the baby. The little girl smiled as if she knew Brady had been ogling Ronon. Brady felt her lips curve in response.

“Our secret,” she whispered against A’ri’s cheek. She bent and laid the girl on the pallet before lying down beside her. Once she was securely tucked into her blankets and barricaded by a pillow to keep her from crawling onto the floor, the baby went to sleep in a matter of minutes. Brady wasn’t too far behind.

\--

In the quiet early morning hours, Brady rolled over and reached for A’ri, but her hand found only blankets. She bolted upright on the pallet, but before she could call out to Ronon she heard a quiet, low voice. She turned her head and could just barely make out Ronon’s silhouette against the window. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Brady could see that he had opened the curtain and was staring out over Atlantis, singing softly and gently swaying A’ri as he cradled her against his chest. She pulled her legs up as quietly as she could and wrapped her arms around them, leaning back against her bed, content to spy on the tender scene. It wasn’t often that Ronon let his guard down completely, yet here he was, singing a baby back to sleep. He finished his lullaby but continued to sway.

“Brady thinks she’s quiet and we don’t know she’s awake, but she’s from Earth, so what does she know?” he said quietly to the snoozing baby. He looked in Brady’s direction and she smiled sleepily.

“Caught me,” she whispered. His teeth flashed in the darkness as he gave a quick smile. “You want me to take her?”

“Nah,” he said as he turned from the window and crossed the room. “She’s out.” He leaned down and put the baby back to bed, patting her back when she briefly stirred.

“You’re really good at this,” Brady said. Ronon straightened and crawled back into bed, stretching out on the mattress and stacking his hands behind his head.

“When are you gonna realize that I’m good at _everything_,” he said.

Brady tisked and looked at him with a grin. “Whatever!”

“Name one thing I’m not good at,” he challenged.

“Humility,” Brady quipped. That earned another flash of smile. “On a serious note, I really appreciate your help tonight, Ronon. Thanks for staying.”

He shrugged. “You sleep like the dead. Even if I’d been in my quarters I would have heard if A’ri started crying. It saved me the walk. Go to sleep, Brady.”

Brady rolled her eyes but lay back down. She heard Ronon rustling around on the bed, trying to get comfortable. It wasn’t long before his breathing evened and she knew he had drifted off to sleep. Brady lost herself in her thoughts for a while until she felt the pull of sleep once again. With a deep sigh, she rolled onto her side and dozed off.

\--

Brady flinched and grunted as something wet dripped onto her face. She cracked her eyes open, grunting again as sunlight poured through the open curtain. She opened her eyes fully and gasped at the sight of a face directly in front of hers. A’ri grinned down at her, another stream of drool plopping onto Brady’s cheek. She laughed and reached for the baby, sitting up and wiping her face. A’ri laughed and flapped her arms happily. Brady looked and saw that the bed was empty, supposing that Ronon had work to tend to. She noticed that the baby was in a fresh diaper—or rather, panties—and she made a mental note to get something special for Ronon as a thank-you for helping so much.

The sight of the makeshift diaper reminded her of the trade mission. She looked at the clock, groaning when she saw how late in the morning it was. Sigma team had already debarked for their destination and neither she nor Ronon had talked to Major Hastings about bringing supplies for the baby.

She pushed herself to her feet, stretching a kink out of her back when she stood. She looked at the baby and wondered what to do with her while she took a shower.

“If I put you in that basket, you’re just gonna crawl out, aren’t you?” A’ri peered up at her and smiled, rolling over and crawling away as if in answer. Brady smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ok, come on,” she said, scooping the baby into her arms. She carried her into the bathroom and shut the door before setting her back on the floor. “Lucky for you I’m sort of a stickler for cleanliness,” Brady said. “Well, when it counts. My floors are clean, anyway.”

She checked the area, making certain there was nothing that the child could get into, before undressing and tossing her clothes in a hamper. She took a quick shower and dried off, fastening a towel around her chest and carrying the baby back into the bedroom just as her door swooshed open.

Ronon stopped short as he saw Brady, still wet from her shower and clad only in a towel. He cleared his throat and sat a tray on her bed. “Brought you some food,” he said. “McKay sent some applesauce for A’ri.”

“McKay sent it?” Brady asked, surprised.

“Well, sort of. I took it off his tray,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But he can get more. Sigma left before I could get word to Hastings, but I talked to Weir and we’re cleared to go to a place called Ingram.”

“We? I thought last night was—“

“Yeah, well, it was on the list of trade outposts we still haven’t contacted. The probes show a strong farming presence and nothing threatening, so I told Weir you and I could go. Besides, there’s no telling what kind of trouble you’d get in if you went on your own.”

“Oh, it’s not like I’m that bad,” Brady said. A’ri stretched out her arms, reaching for Ronon, and Brady smiled. “I think she wants you to hold her.”

Ronon looked at the baby and stepped forward to hesitantly take her. Brady pulled a pair of cargo pants off a pile of clothes near the foot of her bed. She opened a drawer and snatched out a clean set of underwear and a gray pocket tee before disappearing back into the bathroom. She reemerged a moment later, looking fresh and optimistic.

“Ready?”

They went to the gateroom and Chuck dialed them out. Elizabeth appeared at the balcony. “Be careful. With any luck, the child will be back with her family as soon as the road to New Iscalas is passable and Sheppard can get to the gate.”

Brady nodded and lifted the baby, who was tucked safely back into her basket, stepping up to the platform as the wormhole was established. Ronon strode forward, his hand on his gun, always on alert when he gated. Brady followed him, amazed that the sensation of gate travel didn’t bother A’ri.

“I wonder why kids aren’t ever freaked out by gating,” she said as they walked down a grassy knoll. Ronon shrugged. “Maybe they’re not old enough to be grounded in rational thought. Like, maybe the reason it freaks us—“

“You.”

“Fine, _me. _Maybe the reason it freaks me out so much is ‘cause my brain is thinking, ‘Hang on a second. This isn’t supposed to be doable’.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Ronon said, leading the way down a cobblestone road.

“You’re just saying that to placate me so I’ll shut up, aren’t you?”

He shrugged again.

“You’re an infuriating man, has anybody ever told you that?” Brady asked.

“You mean other than you?” he replied carelessly.

Brady sighed and shook her head with a wry smile. How was it possible for someone’s personality to change so significantly from one day to the next? Maybe he was bipolar...

“Wait,” Ronon ordered quietly, holding out his arm to stop her advance. He pulled his blaster from the holster and took a step forward, powering it up as two large blonde men stepped from the trees.

“What’s in the basket there?” the man closest to Brady asked. His friend pulled a sword from a scabbard at his back, seeming unconcerned with Ronon’s blaster.

“Unless you want to see your buddy do a remarkable impression of a donut, I’d suggest you tell him to put his sword down,” Brady said. She took a step closer to Ronon’s back, using him to shield her and A’ri as she unholstered her sidearm and sat the basket down. “We are travelers. Explorers,” she said calmly. “We mean no harm. We are only looking to make contact with your people and perhaps trade for some supplies for our child.”

“You are awfully well-armed to be simple travelers.” The big blonde looked at his comrade and spoke in a foreign language.

Brady frowned. “Wait. Hang on a second,” she said, stepping around Ronon and holstering her gun. “Ert þú skilur mig?”   


“What did you just say?” Ronon asked, keeping his eyes and his gun trained on the two men, who looked angrily at Brady.

“I asked if they could understand me,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re speaking some sort of ancient Icelandic.”

“How do you know our language, little one?” another man asked, stepping out of the trees. Unlike the other two blondes, this man had a bright red tint to his hair.

“I’m a student of languages,” Brady said. She laid a hand on Ronon’s arm and made him lower his weapon. “Look, we really are peaceful people. My name is Brady, and this is Ronon Dex, my...husband. He was taken off guard by the appearance of your friends, that’s all.”

The man laughed. “Forgive Haki and Herger. They take their posts very seriously. I am Ivar, chief constable of Ingram. Come, come.” He waved them forward. “I will take you to the village and we will find the supplies you seek.” He glanced at the blaster Ronon still held by his side. “You are under no threat from us, as long as you behave yourself.”

“Likewise,” Ronon growled.

The village was clean and well kept. Brady shifted A’ri’s basket from one hand to the other, surprised when Ronon reached down and plucked it from her grasp. She smiled gratefully, but he was in warrior-mode and didn’t spare her a glance. Brady rolled her eyes.

Ivar lifted a hand and pointed down the street. “There you will find merchants who will have the things you need,” he said to Brady. “You, come with me. There is the tavern. Let us be men while the woman is a mother.”

“She stays with me,” Ronon said.

Ivar’s smile faltered a bit, and he tilted his head to the side. “You believe harm would come to her here? After I’ve given my word that you are under no threat? You believe me a liar?” he demanded, growing more agitated with each question.

“He’s not saying that,” Brady hastily assured him. “He meant no offense.”

“Does your woman always speak for you thus?” Ivar asked. Gone was the jovial host who had chatted while they walked to town and in his place was a man insulted.

Brady looked up at Ronon and silently pleaded with him to clean up his mess. She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch and relaxed. If he was annoyed enough to clench his teeth, that meant he knew he had to fix it.

“While your people might not trouble my wife, I feel she will surely be a nuisance to them,” he said, not looking away from Ivar. “She’s young and forgets herself often, as you’ve just witnessed. I’d hate to plague your merchants with her incessant talking when I can accompany her.”

Oh, someone was gonna get an earful on the way home, Brady thought with a frown.

Ivar barked a laugh. “She _is_ a mouthy one, is she not?” he asked, slapping Ronon on the back. He waved a hand. “Fine, fine. Go. Procure your items and deliver your baggage to the inn at the end of the street. Then, Ronon Dex, meet me at the tavern. We shall drink to your health, and that of your son.”

“Actually, A’ri is a g—“

“I’ll be there within the hour,” Ronon interrupted, glancing down at Brady with a look that clearly said ‘shut up or I will shut you up’. He turned and gave her a nudge to get her walking toward the merchants.

“What’s the big idea?” Brady hissed. “Since when are you so damn sexist?”

“Since we got to this village,” Ronon replied. “Look around, Brady. You see any women? I came across a few places like this when I was a Runner. Men are the face of the town—they keep to the markets and taverns while their women stay home and take care of their children. That’s their only purpose.”

“So basically we gated from Atlantis to Georgia?” Brady muttered. “Ok, Mister Big Man, what am I supposed to do while you’re out boozing it up with Ivar? If this is the feminist nightmare that you say, I doubt I’ll be welcome to hang out in the tavern.”

“You’ll stay in the room at the inn.”

“Ronon—“

“I’ll be back before dark,” he said. “We’ll get our gear and leave after I have a few drinks with Ivar. Brady, isn’t it you who is always saying I make a shitty liaison? Well, this is me being better at liaising. I’m establishing a relationship with the people and all that stuff John and Teyla are always rambling on about.”

“Ronon, dear, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you tend to drink a crapload more than John and Teyla,” Brady said with a scowl.

“I’ll be fine,” he said with finality.

\--

“Hey, remember when you said ‘I’ll be fine’?” Brady asked, lowering her voice to a deep, mocking tone as she hooked Ronon’s arm around her shoulders and heaved him away from the young woman who had helped him up the stairs. She thanked the girl, who looked relieved to be rid of the giant hulk of drunken male, and kicked the door shut.

Ronon spun away from her and stood in the center of the room, weaving slightly. He smiled, his teeth flashing white amid his dark face. “You missed me, huh?”

“God, you are such a jackass.” Brady shook her head and bent to check on A’ri. The baby was sleeping deep and peacefully in the small crib they had gotten from the market. Brady straightened suddenly, snapping to attention as she felt Ronon’s hands on her hips. “Uh, whatcha doing?” She tried to turn to face him, but he held her hips tightly. “Ronon?”

“Shh,” he whispered. She glanced back at him and frowned. His eyes were closed and a smile still flirted with his lips. He lowered his head, brushing his cheek against hers. Brady tilted her head to the side, tensing when he turned his mouth to her neck.

“Ooookay. You need to snap out of it, sweetheart,” she said, trying to step away. He tightened his hold briefly before releasing her. She took a step forward and turned to look at him. “Ronon, you’re very very drunk,” she said. “You need to go to bed so we can go home tomorrow.”

“Come to bed with me,” he said, grinning seductively as he unlaced and removed his vest.

“I am, but only to sleep,” Brady said, looking away from his bare skin. Ronon smiled and reached for her, but she skipped aside and pointed to the bed. “Behave yourself,” she chided.

Ronon sighed and clicked his tongue. “Your loss, doc,” he said, stumbling to the bed and flopping onto his stomach. He turned his face to her and smiled sleepily. “You woulda woke the village screaming my name.”

Brady felt her cheeks heat and knew she was blushing. “Well then it’s for the best, because neither of us would have felt up to putting A’ri back to sleep.” She bumped his hip with the back of her hand. “Move your butt.”

He slid over a fraction of an inch and buried his face in the pillow. Brady stretched out on her side and rested her head on her arm, trying to make herself go to sleep. She could feel the warmth of Ronon’s body at her back and briefly pondered taking him up on his offer. She shoved the thought aside almost immediately.

Almost.

She felt him shift on the mattress and had to hold on to the side of the bed so she wouldn’t roll back onto him. She jolted when she felt his warm fingers at the base of her spine. Apparently her shirt had bunched up and exposed a little skin. His fingertips trailed up and over her side, then down to brush against the band of her cargo pants.

“Sleep, Ronon,” Brady whispered. He moved again and she closed her eyes, thinking he had settled in for the night. Her eyes popped wide and she flopped onto her back when she felt his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin of her hip. “Whoa!” she hissed, holding up her hands.

“Ticklish, Brady?” Ronon asked, leaning over her. His dreads fell forward and he grinned down at her.

“Look, not that I don’t enjoy seeing your playful side now and then,” Brady said, “but you’d have a cow once you’re sober if I let you do what you’re thinking about doing.”

“You mean if you let me kiss you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s a bad idea.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Brady said, nodding. His smile widened.

“Tell that to your hands,” he whispered, slowly lowering his mouth to hers.

Brady realized that though she’d initially put her hands up to halt his advancement, her palms were, even now, exploring the texture of Ronon’s skin, smoothing over his flesh from his chest to his shoulders and back again.

“Well, damn,” she muttered as Ronon’s lips closed over hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him to her as he situated his body over hers. She tilted her head to the side so that he could nibble on her throat. He sank his teeth into her flesh where her neck and shoulder met and she arched against him like a cat. Amidst their heavy breathing, Brady heard a quiet squank. She tapped Ronon’s shoulder and he rose up, breaking the mind-blowing kiss he’d been giving her. Sure enough, a moment later another cry sounded. A’ri was awake.

“Scooch over for a second. I’ll see what’s wrong.”

Ronon licked his lips and rolled onto his back so that Brady could get up and tend to the baby. The child had kicked off her blanket and wasn’t happy about it, but after Brady tucked the soft cover back around her, she quieted and was back asleep in minutes.

“She’s a really easy baby to take care of,” Brady whispered. She looked over her shoulder at Ronon and scoffed a disbelieving chuckle. The big warrior had passed out, sprawled in all directions and dwarfing the small bed they were supposed to share. How he could go from a ball of raging hormones one minute to sleeping soundly the next, she had no idea.

She lay on the edge of the bed and used her butt to shove him over a little so that she wouldn’t have to worry about falling on her face during the night. In sleep, he wrapped a strong arm around her and pulled her into the warmth of his body. Any other time she would have moved from the intimate—albeit unconscious—embrace, but she was tired. So, careful not to allow herself to imagine a scenario in which this was the normal end to her day, Brady snuggled back deeper against Ronon’s chest and fell asleep.

\--

Sunlight filtered through the flimsy curtains and Brady yawned, scrubbing a hand over her face as she peeled herself out of Ronon’s grasp. She checked her watch and groaned.

“Ronon,” she said, nudging him. “Hey, Ronon. Get up. We’re already about a half-hour overdue at the gate.” She checked the baby, who was chilling out in her crib. “And why couldn’t you be a normal kid and wake up at dawn, huh?” she asked, picking up the child. She changed A’ri’s diaper and packed up the gear they bought before putting the little girl down to crawl for a few minutes. After breaking down the crib and packing it, Brady kicked the side of the bed with the sole of her boot. “Ronon, get up.”

Ronon grunted and scowled up at her. “What?”

“We need to hit the road. Up and at ‘em, Casanova.”

“Casanova?” he asked confusedly, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees. He ducked his head and took deep, slow breaths. He groaned something in Satedan and Brady arched a brow.

“You ok there, chief? You aren’t looking so good.”

“I’m fine,” he growled.

“I’ve decided that you need a lesson in what ‘fine’ means,” she said. “What you are is hungover. Too much liquor and sex will do that to you,” she added, tucking her tongue in her cheek and resuming her packing.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ronon asked irritably. His eyes narrowed as his ale-soaked memory tried to piece together the events of the night before. “Were we together last night?”

“You got toasted and tried to seduce me,” Brady said. “Luckily, I can’t be swayed by big muscles and flirty smiles,” she said with a dainty sniff. She picked up her bags and faced him, holding out his vest. He took it and tugged it on, not bothering to tie the laces. “Can you grab A’ri?”

Ronon nodded and bent to pick up the baby, cradling her carefully as he picked up his pack and her basket. He looked at Brady, his eyes landing on the edge of a purple bruise that dotted her skin. “What happened?” he asked, dropping the basket and shifting the collar of Brady’s t-shirt to the side. His fingers brushed the mark and his eyes darted to hers. “You kissed me. A lot. And I gave you that mark.”

“Not a lot,” Brady said, pulling free of his grasp. “Ok, fine. We made out a little. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly rolling in the action on Atlantis. It was late, you were...exuberant. We got carried away. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Ronon demanded.

“No, no big deal. Look, you passed out before it went too far, not that I would have let it get too far. Hormones and alcohol, mixed with a little bit of the family dynamic brought about by keeping A’ri. That’s all it was. Relax.” She looked at her watch and sighed. “We really need to go.”

Ronon was silent as he bent and picked the basket back up, holding onto the baby as she played with his hair. He followed Brady from the inn and down the road out of town. They were nearly to the gate before he spoke to her again.

“It’s dangerous, you know. You and I shouldn’t--”

Brady rolled her eyes and groaned. “Oh, good jeez. Look, let it go, Dex.” She dialed Atlantis and stood back as the wormhole opened. “My honor is intact, so to speak, and I highly doubt I’m the first person you’ve ever hit on while you were drunk. Besides, like I said, I wouldn’t have let it get too far. So stop being all weird and just shut up about it.”

Ronon shifted A’ri to his other arm and walked through the gate without another word to her.

“Temperamental,” Brady muttered, following.

“There they are,” Sheppard called from the balcony.

“Heya Shep!” Brady said. “Didn’t expect you back so soon. You’re not gonna believe—“

A man rushed down the stairs toward Ronon, who reflexively drew his blaster.

“Whoa, whoa,” Sheppard said. “Ronon, this is Jonta. The baby you’re holding is his daughter.”

“Please,” Jonta said, his eyes shining with tears as he held his arms out for his child.

Ronon turned A’ri toward the man and the baby cooed happily, stretching out her arms for her father. Jonta took her and hugged her tightly, murmuring to her in his native language.

“Sheppard, we can’t just give her back without preamble,” Brady said, striding forward. “I mean, what kind of person just forgets their daughter on another planet?” she asked accusingly.

“Brady.”

“No, I’m sorry, but the welfare of that kid means a lot more to me than manners right now.” She pinned Jonta with her best glare. “Care to explain how your daughter ended up left behind?”

“My wife, she is ill,” Jonta said, speaking slowly. “My son helped her through the light portal. She thought I had Corai,” he said, indicating the baby. “I, however, believed my wife’s mother had her, as I was carrying many packs. My wife’s mother assumed that my son was carrying Corai for my wife. So, you see, we all believed that someone else had her. We did not discover our mistake until we reached the new village. By then, the rain had started and the rest of your people had gone, save John Sheppard and Teyla. Madam, you must believe me when I tell you that we were frantic with worry over our child.” He looked at the little girl and smiled as his eyes filled with tears again. “She is our light and is much loved.”

Ronon gave a short nod to Jonta and headed for the stairs, patting Brady’s shoulder as he passed.

“They wanted to come back immediately,” Sheppard said, “but the road flooded out. I assured them that our people would have found the baby and it would be in good hands.”

Brady nodded and forced a smile. “Well, I’m glad you were able to get back to her so quickly,” she said.

“Thank you,” Jonta said. “Thank you for caring for her.” He looked at Sheppard. “And thank you, John.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. Let’s get you guys home, huh?” He looked up at Amelia and nodded. The gate began to dial and Brady cleared her throat.

“Um, oh! Here’s some baby stuff. I mean, I’m sure you’ve got some, since you have the whole family thing going on, but...” She passed the packs to Sheppard and smiled. “Well, I’m gonna go grab a shower and get back to work. I’m sure stuff’s piled up over the last couple of days.” She ran a hand over the baby’s hair. “See you around, A’ri.”

Brady headed for the stairs and heard the wormhole open behind her.

She didn’t look back.

\--

The room that had once been occupied by Carson Beckett was empty, barren of anything personal or identifying to the jovial resident who once lived there. Brady sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the large window that faced away from the Central Tower and gave an excellent view of the sea.

“So, yet another person yanked away from me through the gate,” she said. She wasn’t sure why she still came to talk to Carson—she knew he wasn’t there—but sometimes it made her feel a little better to vent to the memory of her friend as if he could offer her some of his sage-like advice. “I gotta admit, Carson, I’m a little anxious as to who’s next. I know the baby wasn’t mine and I know I couldn’t keep her, and I know she isn’t dead, but I just can’t stop from resenting that damn circle for taking so many people from me. Ok, so I know I’m not the be-all-end-all to this place, but these people are my family, same as the guys from SGC.” She huffed an aggravated breath as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Same as you. And I’m tired of losing my family through that gate.”

As expected, silence was her only reply. She tried to imagine what Carson would say, but in her mind, his voice sounded a little off. It made it more painful to pretend than to just listen to the silence.

As the north sun set on the horizon, Brady stood and shook off her melancholy, pasting the carefree smile on her face that everyone expected to see.


	12. Lost & Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover time! A visit to SGC in a time of crisis. Familiar faces appear!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't exactly remember if/how Baal finds out about the Pegasus gate. It's been a while since I watched all ten seasons of SG1. Such is the trouble with crossovers. Anyway, I have my own spin for it. Hopefully it jives relatively well with what really happens. :)

** _ LOST AND FOUND  _ ** ** ** _July 2007_

“Dr. Thatcher, report to the control deck. Brady to the control deck.”

Brady glared at the loudspeaker and sighed. She pulled the headlamp from her forehead and took off her glasses. She made a few notes about the piece she had been examining before setting it carefully back on its stand.

She touched her radio. “This is Brady. I’m on the way.”

Wiping her hands on her pants, she left her office and locked the door behind her. She entered the control room and crossed to where Amelia sat.

“What’s up?” she asked, staring at the shimmering wormhole below.

“You’ve got a call from General Landry,” Amelia said, clacking on her keyboard. She nodded to Brady, indicating that the line was open.

“General?”

“Dr. Thatcher. How are you?”

“Great, sir,” Brady said. “Thanks for asking. Um…what can I do for you?”

“I won’t waste time,” Landry said. “Three days ago, SG-1 received intel that villagers on a planet called Bantinos were in danger from what appeared to be a Goa’uld mothership.”

“Bantinos? We’ve been there before,” Brady said, frowning. “That was one of Baal’s planets.”

“Yeah,” Landry said.

“What happened?”

“We lost contact with SG-1 shortly after they arrived on Bantinos. Colonel Reynolds and SG-3 went on a recovery op. They came back with only Vala.”

“What about the others?”

“Teal’c and Sam were both off-world on other assignments at the time the call came in. As for Cam and Daniel, there was no sign of them. Vala said the villager who was guiding them took off, but the team continued on. They had some obstacle to go through every few miles. Daniel was working on one so that they could cross a bridge and the next thing she knew, she was hit with a blast from a Zat. By the time Reynolds showed up, Daniel and Cam were gone.”

“Why did they leave Vala behind?”

“We don’t know. Look, we want you to come here and accompany SG-3, along with Vala, back to Bantinos. According to Vala, every few miles a puzzle had to be solved before they could go any further. She is certain that the only person who can get far enough to find Cam and Daniel quickly is you.”

“Really?” Brady asked. “Why? What about Sam?”

“We need someone who thinks like Daniel,” Landry said. “I’ve already cleared it with Dr. Weir and you’re set to gate out in an hour.”

The stargate closed as General Landry disconnected the call.

“Dr. Weir, I have a favor to ask,” Brady said. “Vala was once used as a host for Quetesh, so she knows the ins and outs of the motherships. We’ll have plenty of Marine support—“

“Are you going to get to that favor soon?” Weir asked with a smile.

“I need Ronon,” Brady said.

“Ronon? Why?”

“Because nobody tracks like him,” Brady replied. “I can think like Daniel; I can solve the riddles. But we’ll need the best to track whoever took Cam and Daniel.”

“Alright,” she said after a moment. “Alpha is off call for a couple of days. I’m sure General Landry would welcome the help. I can’t order Ronon to go on this mission, but if he agrees, you both have a go.”

\--

Brady adjusted her pack on her shoulder as she stepped through the gate on Earth. She smiled up at Walter and waved.

“Brady, nice to have you back,” he said.

“Thanks, Walter,” Brady said. “Wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Vala, Colonel Reynolds, and SG-3 are ready to embark when you are,” General Landry said, greeting Brady and Ronon at the foot of the gate ramp. “Ronon, I appreciate you joining us.”

“Not a problem,” Ronon said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Brady led Ronon out of the gate room and down the hall toward the locker room. She had barely stepped inside when someone let out a squeal. Ronon watched as a woman wearing a black leather outfit shot across the room so quickly that her pigtails flew behind her. She embraced Brady in a bone-crushing hug.

“Brady! Oh Brady Brady Brady!”

Brady laughed loudly as she returned the woman’s hug. “Glad to know I was missed, Vala.”

“I’m so glad you were able to come,” Vala said. “I remembered what Daniel did with the first two puzzles, but once we got back to the bridge. Look, if you need to get past a living person, I’m your girl. Inanimate objects, on the other hand, are not in my niche.”

“Unless they’re being lifted,” Brady said.

Vala shrugged and smiled. For the first time since they had entered the room, she looked up at Ronon. Her smile turned predatory.

“Ooo…hello there,” she said silkily, extending her hand. 

“Oh, right. Vala, this is Ronon,” Brady said as Ronon accepted Vala’s handshake. “Ronon Dex, Vala Mal Doran, Pirate Queen of the Milky Way.”

“_Former_ pirate queen,” Vala said. “I’ve been reformed. Well…half reformed,” she amended, tugging Brady aside. “No wonder you like Atlantis,” she said quietly, looking over her shoulder at Ronon. “D’you think they’d let me transfer? I did quite well when we were there before.”

“I doubt it,” Brady said with a grin. “Colonel Reynolds,” Brady said with a smile as the Marine stepped forward.

“Dr. Thatcher. My men and I are ready.”

“We are too,” she said. “Lead the way, colonel.”

They went to the gateroom and stood at the bottom of the ramp as Walter counted down the chevrons. Brady had never noticed how long it actually took to dial Earth’s gate. By the time the wormhole was engaged, she and Ronon were both shifting from one foot to the other.

They walked through the event horizon and scanned the area on the other side. Vala took point, leading the team down the path SG-1 had taken.

“Ok. If a Goa’uld is behind this we’re gonna need to get Daniel and Cam out of there fast. What do we know about what’s going on with the people here?”

“A few days ago a villager contacted us. What was his name...I don’t remember,” she said, waving a hand. “But he said a Goa’uld mothership—“ She stopped, looking up at Ronon. “He is familiar with the Goa’uld, correct?” she asked Brady.

“I’ve read mission reports,” Ronon said.

“Excellent,” Vala said, smiling and turning back to Brady. “Where was I?”

“Villager. Mothership.”

“Oh yes. Well this man said that was a mothership orbiting the planet and that a few battalions of Jaffa had already been dispatched.”

“Whoa...Jaffa? I thought they had declared their independence from the System Lords.”

“Some returned to service. After being enslaved for countless generations, freedom proved to be more daunting than appealing. So anyway, me and the fellas loaded up and went with that guy—what _was_ his name? Bergin? Gerwin? It was definitely an ‘er, in’.”

“Vala.”

“Oh, right. So we’re headed back to the village and bam! We slam right into a force field. I thought Cameron had broken his nose, poor dear. Sherman—no, that’s still not right...Thurmin! That’s it! Thurmin points out this carved statue. Well, you know Daniel...he just stood there staring at the thing for twenty minutes then snapped his fingers. ‘Of course!’ he said. Then he started pacing off the area until he got to this one specific tree, did something to it, and the field dropped.”

“A force field,” Brady said contemplatively. “If the planets are littered with force fields and booby traps, how do the villagers know where to go and where not to go?”

“That’s what Cameron brought up. We were going to ask Thurmin, but the little rodent had given us the slip. That’s when we realized we’d been set up. Ah, here we are.”

They fell in line behind Vala as she wound her way around the force field and poked at a skinny tree. The field dropped with a low hum and the team spread back out.

“So we were tossing around ideas while we were walking, and we decided that the path Thurmin took us on was the only one with the traps. It didn’t make sense for the whole planet to be rigged, especially if the Goa’uld wanted to keep their human slaves. Cameron figured whoever wanted us dead must have set the puzzles up so that we’d either die on the way or die when we got there.”

“Why’d you keep going once you found out the villager betrayed you?” Ronon asked. “Why not just turn back for the gate?”

“Well, it’s not as if we decided to just go for a stroll,” Vala said. “Cameron wanted to get a scope of the ship—if there was one—and Daniel...well, you don’t know Daniel,” she said, rolling her eyes and looking at Brady. “He’s hardheaded and curious to a fault. The man’s a genius, but sometimes he gets in explorer mode and common sense eludes him.”

Brady was careful to stare straight ahead and not look at Ronon, even though she saw him look at her.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Must be a pain in the ass when that happens.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Vala said.

“Pretty sure I do,” Ronon muttered so that only Brady could hear.

“Everybody had their own agenda, but also we all, collectively, would love nothing more than to kick a Goa’uld’s ass.”

“What was yours?”

Vala looked at Ronon. “My what?”

“Your agenda,” he said. “You said everyone had their own. What was yours?”

Vala smiled. “He doesn’t miss anything, your tracker,” she said to Brady. “Well, unlike Cameron, I could care less about infiltrating motherships. And, unlike Daniel, I don’t give a nickel about intricate puzzles.”

She smiled again and jogged around the corner.

“And here we go,” Reynolds sighed.

When Vala came in sight again, she was standing in the middle of the path with her arms splayed wide. “Ta da!” she sang. “_Solid gold_ intricate puzzles, on the other hand...I care about.”

Brady felt her jaw drop as she saw a large gold panel attached to the rock face. “Holy crap!”

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Vala gushed.

“Vala, we need to keep moving,” Reynolds reminded her.

“Right,” she said, running a hand along the face of the golden tablet. She gave a wistful sigh and began pressing the inlaid jewels, moving them around to certain positions. “Ah. There we are.”

There was a metallic screeching sound and Vala gently pulled Brady away from the tablet as it began to slide back further into the rock face.

Sinkholes appeared in the path for several yards in front of the team.

“Land mines?” Ronon asked.

“Yep,” Vala said, looking regretfully at the gold tablet. “Not very original, in my opinion. You’d think with unlimited Goa’uld resources one could think of something with a bit more pizzazz.”

“Hidden explosives are plenty of pizzazz for me,” Reynolds said.

They walked down the path, sometimes chatting, but mostly quiet. When they reached the bridge, Reynolds and the Marines fanned out and watched for any sign of Jaffa or traitorous villagers.

“This is it,” Vala said, pointing to a small wooden sign in front of a stone bridge.

Brady and Ronon looked over the ledge and Brady let out a long whistle. “Wow. That’s a deep hole.”

She crossed to the sign and examined it. “Nothing ornate,” she said, running her fingertips over the carved characters in the wood. “Daniel didn’t say anything about the inscription?”

“Only that it didn’t make any sense,” Vala said. “He was getting aggravated. I could tell, because he was quite snippy with me.”

Brady had never seen Daniel be anything _but_ snippy with Vala, but she didn’t mention it. She turned her attention to the plaque.

“Well, he was right. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I say we forget the inscription and take our chances,” Ronon said.

“Yes, well...I’d rather not be blown up or anything of the like,” Vala said. “Daniel was quite insistent that he solve the puzzle before we went any further.”

“Yeah, and it turned out real well for him, obviously.”

“Listen, Tarzan—“

“Alright, guys. Relax,” Brady said, holding up a hand to stave off a full-blown argument. “Gimme a sec, ok?”

Ronon turned away from Vala and Brady and scanned the tree line. He thought he saw movement in the underbrush and slowly crept forward. He knelt at the edge of the forest and examined the foliage.

“You got something?”

Ronon looked back at Colonel Reynolds. “Footprints. Whoever made them wasn’t concerned with covering their tracks. They’re heavy, but they aren’t fresh.”

“How old are they?” Reynolds asked.

“Old enough that they could have been made by whoever took your people,” Ronon said, standing. He stepped into the underbrush and looked around, but emerged again and shook his head at Reynolds. “There are no tracks to retrace. These must have come from when they crossed the bridge and fanned out.”

Ronon crept to the edge of the ravine and peered over. He looked along the ledge to see if there was an end to the canyon, but it gaped in both directions for as far as he could see.

“Oh!”

Brady’s exclamation startled Ronon and he reflexively pulled his gun. The marines, in turn, readied their own weapons, scanning the forest for threats. Ronon sighed as Brady gave a sheepish apology.

Ronon holstered his weapon and watched as Brady happily muttered to herself and scooped a handful of soil. She walked to the ledge and daintily tossed the dirt into the air.

“What’s with the dirt?” Ronon asked as he approached.

She turned to look at him, a satisfied smile curving her lips. “Look,” she said, pointing fifty yards on the other side of the bridge.

Ronon turned his attention to where she was pointing, frowning as he saw the sand lightly skittering across the ravine on an unseen surface.

“What is that?” Reynolds asked.

Brady brushed her palms on the back of her pants and stuck her foot over the ledge. Vala gave a startled cry and Ronon jerked Brady’s arm in a bruising grip, hauling her back from the edge.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded, giving her a none-too-gentle shake.

“Whoa! Jeez,” Brady said, tugging away from him. “Ronon, relax. It’s another bridge.”

“What?” Vala asked.

Brady knelt and scooped up more sand. She eyed Ronon as she moved back to the edge, holding up a hand when she saw his jaw clench. She sprinkled the handful of soil over the edge of the crevice, smiling again when it gathered in a small pile on an invisible structure.

“I’ll be damned,” Reynolds said.

“Not today,” Brady said.

She turned her smile to Ronon. He looked annoyed, but he didn’t seem to want to strangle her. Brady stripped off her hoodie and heaped sand onto it before gingerly stepping off the ledge. She held her breath as she shook her hoodie from side to side, distributing earth evenly over the invisible bridge.

She began to inch forward and soon she stepped onto the other side of the ravine. Her legs were shaky and she sank to the ground with a sigh as she turned to look back at the others.

“Come on,” she said. “Before all the dirt blows away.”

Ronon came next, followed by two Marines, then Vala. Finally, Reynolds and the rest of the team made it across and everyone got back on the path.

“Stay alert,” Reynolds said. “From here out is unfamiliar territory.”

“So,” Vala said as she and Brady hiked behind the Marines. “What’s the deal with you and hot Mr. Leather Pants?”

Brady smiled. She remembered now why she missed her quirky alien friend.

“There’s no deal,” she said. “Ronon and I work together.”

“Uh-huh,” Vala said. “I work with Daniel, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to spend hours making hot, sweaty—“

“Easy, Vala,” Brady said with a laugh. She sighed and snuck a glance back over her shoulder. Ronon walked beside Reynolds, surveying the forest with the eyes of a hunter.

“Oh, I see how completely wrong I was,” Vala said dryly, arching a brow at Brady. “There’s certainly nothing there.”

“Shut up,” Brady said with a grin.

“I bet he’s a marvelous kisser,” Vala said dreamily. “Ah ha!” she hissed, pointing a finger at Brady. “That’s a smirk worth a thousand words.”

“Shh!” Brady said. “It wasn’t like a kiss kiss. I kissed him.”

“That’s my girl,” Vala said proudly.

“It wasn’t anything major,” Brady insisted.

“Have you slept with anyone while you’ve been on Atlantis?”

“Vala!”

“What?” Vala asked. “It’s a perfectly good question between friends. Girl talk, and all that.”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone on Atlantis,” Brady said. “I work with them. It’s a bit awkward to have to work with someone who’s seen you naked.”

“Who’s seen you naked?”

Brady’s head whipped around and she looked at Ronon, who had closed a lot of the distance between them.

“What?” Brady asked, flushing. “Nothing. No one.”

“Lots of people,” Vala said. She smiled. “Do they have streakers on your world? Maybe it’s just an Earth thing—“

“I was not streaking!”

“A few weeks before Brady left for Atlantis,” Vala began, ignoring Brady’s squawks of protest. “There was this huge ordeal at SGC. Some Washington bigwig was coming. Anyway,” she continued, “right in the middle of this gathering of Generals and politicos, Brady comes bolting down the hallway, stark naked.”

Ronon turned to look at Brady, eyebrows raised. A slow, amused grin split his face and her blush deepened.

“I wasn’t streaking,” she said. “_Some_body stole my clothes outta the shower room.” She cast an accusing glare at Vala, who laughed unrepentantly.

“One of the gunnies bet me fifty bucks that I couldn’t distract the Generals once they were talking about their guns and plans.”

“You didn’t,” Brady muttered. “You almost got me fired.”

“Oh, piff,” Vala said, draping an arm over Brady’s shoulder. “They’d never fire you. You’re the SGC’s wonder child.”

“What’s that?” Reynolds called, drawing their attention. He pointed to a glimmering curtain draped across the path directly in front of them.

“Chances are it isn’t good,” Vala said, tightening her grip on her weapon.

“Wait here,” Ronon said. He stepped off the path and disappeared into the dense forest.

“I don’t think—“

“Shh!” Brady said, cutting off Reynold’s words. “You hear that?”

“Down!” Reynolds shouted.

Vala grabbed Brady’s shoulder and shoved her to the dirt. The laser from a Jaffa weapon shot from the trees, catching one of Reynolds’s Marines in the chest.

“Get off the path!” Brady called, firing her P-90 in the direction of the staff attacks. She helped Vala to her feet and rushed into the woods. “Ronon!”

The team heard the clanking of Jaffa armor and took cover among the large trees. A small contingent of Jaffa broke the tree line across the path and stopped. Their Prime, a large man with long hair, broke off from the group and stalked toward the shimmering electric field. He barked out a final order and stepped through the field, dissolving.

“It’s a transporter,” Vala whispered.

The Jaffa crept closer. Brady could see the insignia on their heads.

“Damn,” she breathed. “Ba’al.”

“Vala, Brady, fall back,” Reynolds said over their headsets.

They carefully picked their way away from the treeline. Reynolds jerked his thumb at them, indicating that he wanted them behind his line of Marines.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Vala whispered dryly as they knelt in a thick tangle of limbs and vines.

“It will be if you don't shut up,” Brady replied. She gasped as a large hand closed over her mouth, but then relaxed when she heard Ronon's voice in her ear.

“They're closing in on our flanks,” he whispered. He moved his hand and spoke into his headset. “Reynolds, you need to pull your men back. They're surrounding us on all sides. We need to cluster.”

“Too late,” Reynolds responded. The sounds of staff weapon and P-90 fire filled the air. “Get Vala and Brady outta here, Dex! Get back to the gate!”

“Go,” Ronon said, firing his gun as Vala and Brady left their cover.

“We can't just leave everybody,” Brady shouted, laying down cover fire.

“We can't come back for them if we're dead,” Ronon said, grabbing her arm and pulling her along behind him.

“Look out!” Vala called, firing her Zat. She took a hit and fell to the ground.

“Vala!” Brady cried, rushing over to her friend. There was no blood or scorch mark, which meant the Jaffa weren't under kill orders.

“Brady, watch--”

Ronon's warning was cut short as he was hit with a bolt from a taser. Brady whirled to look behind her, preferring to meet the blast that she knew was coming head on.

–

When she awoke, Brady was in the dark. The first thing she noticed was that it was freezing, wherever she was. The second thing she noticed was that aside from the tank top and cargo pants she wore, all of her gear was gone. Last, but far from least, she realized that she had no idea where anyone else was.

"Well...damn," she muttered into the darkness.

"Is that...Brady?"

Brady's ears perked. "Daniel?"

“What are you doing here?" Daniel called.

“It's ok,” she replied. “We're here to rescue you.”

“We, who? Who's with you?” he asked.

“Um, at the moment? Nobody. We were ambushed in the forest. I don't know where the others are. But they're here somewhere.”

“Oh, good. I was almost ready to start worrying.”

“Your sarcasm is duly noted,” Brady said dryly. “Where's Mitchell?” she asked hesitantly.

“He's in another cell at the end of the hall. Baal has been alternating interrogation between us. Cam went last, which means they'll be coming for me any time now.”

“Wait your turn, Dr. Jackson.”

“Major Reynolds?”

“'fraid so,” Reynolds said from somewhere in the dark. “I'm two cells from the corner. They dumped Brady across from me and Dex next to her. Parsons and Hewett didn't make it,” he added sadly.

“Vala?” Brady asked quickly.

“Alive, but they took her somewhere else. Not sure where.”

“Do you guys mind not being quite so chatty?”

“How you doing, Cam?” Brady called with a relieved smile.

“Batting a thousand, Brady. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Rescue mission.”

“...Oh,” Mitchell said. “Lemme know how that turns out.”

There was a long groan from close to Brady's left and she tentatively felt around in the dark. “Ronon?”

Her fingers brushed against thin metal bars. She estimated that there was about eight inches between each one. She reached a hand through but couldn't feel anything but the cold floor.

Ronon swore long and hard in both English and Satedan.

“Where the hell are we?” he demanded.

“Baal’s holding cells,” Daniel said. “Nice to meet you, by the way. Our mission on Atlantis was a little rushed last year, so we didn't really have a chance to--”

“Why's it so dark?” Ronon interrupted.

“Disorientation,” Reynolds explained. “It's a common interrogation method. Your eyes should adjust soon.”

“Why's it so cold?” Ronon asked.

“Ooh, I'll take this one,” Mitchell said. “The cold's the fun part. The not-so-fun part comes when they take you to this big tank of really hot water and drop you in it. It's a shock to the system, see, so just about the time your skin stops feeling like it's getting jabbed with a thousand tiny needles, they haul you out, take you to Baal to play with for a bit, then bring you back here. Then, not only is it cold, but you're wet on top of it. You dry eventually, but not before you lose all feeling in your hands and feet.” He paused. “No worries though, because the next run through the sarcophagus sets you back to right. Then it all starts over.”

“I would like someone to make a note,” Brady said. “I really, _really_ hate Baal.”

“Oh, just give it time,” Mitchell said. “It'll get worse.”

“You're just a frickin' ray of sunshine, aren't you Cam?”

Mitchell laughed. “My extraction team is in lockup with me. On a Goa'uld mothership. On a hostile planet. At least eight miles from the Stargate,” he pointed out. He chuckled. “But hey, at least we aren't up against Replicators.”

“There's the optimistic Mitchell I know,” Brady said.

She flinched as something brushed her hand in the dark, but relaxed as Ronon's fingers curled around her wrist. Her eyes were beginning to adjust and she could just make out the shape of him in the dark.

“You alright?”

“I'm always alright,” he replied.

The sound of heavy footsteps was heard coming down the hall and Ronon's grip on Brady's wrist tightened. She heard the Jaffa pass his cell and stop outside hers. Reynolds swore as the swishing sound of a force field dropping disturbed the tense silence.

Cam and Daniel shouted at the Jaffa. There was a scuffle and the sound of something hard and solid striking flesh, followed by the clinking of old-fashioned manacles. Then the Jaffa's footsteps made their way back up the corridor, with Reynolds following behind.

The others were silent for a long while. After what seemed like hours, someone came back down the hall and dumped Reynolds's unconscious body back in his cell. Brady's eyes had adjusted completely and she could make out the shape of two figures standing in the corridor. One was the long-haired Jaffa Prime from the forest. The other was Baal.

“Dr. Thatcher,” Baal said, his silky voice invading the darkness. “How lovely of you to pay another visit to me.”

“Baal ol' pal, how's it going? Still letting that pesky inferiority complex drive you to make stupid decisions?”

Baal chuckled. “Colonel O'Neill trained you well. Still as fearless as ever, I see...for now.” He paused, sighing. “I broke him once, you know. How long do you think it will be before you, like him, beg me to let you _stay_ dead?”

Ronon was on his feet in an instant. He charged across his cell, slamming against the force field that sealed him in. Baal glanced in his direction and waved a hand at his Prime.

“Bring this one,” he said. “I don't know him. I wish to see what part he plays in this little reunion of ours.”

“Ronon,” Brady said quietly.

“I won't break,” he said to Baal.

Baal chuckled again. “We will certainly see.”

“Baal, where is Vala?” Daniel asked.

“Why Dr. Jackson,” he said, turning. “I had almost forgotten you were here. Our dear Vala is in her quarters, awaiting the arrival of an old friend. I am sure she will pay a visit to you once they are...reacquainted.”

Baal turned and led his Jaffa down the hall. Ronon grunted and growled like a trapped bear, but in the end he was all but dragged down the corridor behind the Jaffa Prime.

–

Ronon felt cool fingers trailing over his cheek. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized that someone was speaking to him. He cracked his eyes open and turned his face toward the voice.

“What'd I miss?” he croaked.

Brady sighed as relief swarmed her. “You had me scared for a minute there, tough guy. He's awake,” she called to the others. She cupped his clammy face in her hand, brushing a drop of water away with her thumb as it trickled down his cheek. “Sorry I got you into this,” she said quietly.

Ronon covered her hand with his and squeezed it reassuringly. “If I hadn't come, you'd be in here on your own,” he said. “Then you'd have no chance of getting out.”

“It's good that you're so humble,” Mitchell called. “Thanks for the confidence.”

“Hey, you guys have been here for over a day and you're just hanging out in your cells, waiting for Baal to come torture you. I'm not really the sit-and-wait kind.”

“No, obviously you're the make-fruitless-attempts-at-escaping-and-waste-your-energy kind,” Daniel said.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Brady said, nipping the argument before it heated up. “Have the Alpha-Male battle later. Right now, we need to figure out how to get outta here, get Vala, and get off this ship without getting maimed and/or killed.”

Ronon sat up and rested his head against his knees, waiting for the room to stop tilting.

“What'd they do?” Brady asked.

“The thing with the water first. After that, Baal asked me some questions about the SGC. Then he brought out this casket...”

“The sarcophagus,” Brady realized.

“Baal didn't pull it out for me until my third time through,” Mitchell said. “Jackson made it four. Course Baal likes him better'n me. You musta been hell on him for him to put you through on the first interrogation.”

“Yeah...hell on _him_,” Ronon said, scoffing a laugh. “How's Reynolds?”

“Still out.”

Ronon stretched out on his back next to Brady. She could feel his wet shirt through the bars against her tank top. He inhaled deeply and Brady reached out to wrap a hand around his arm.

“You're freezing,” she said.

“I hadn't noticed,” Ronon replied between clenched teeth as he stifled a shiver.

“Come here, cranky-pants,” Brady ordered, stretching out with her face to the bars. “You need to get warm.”

“How are you going to warm me up?”

“Just roll over. Stop being difficult.”

Ronon sighed his annoyance and rolled onto his side, bending his elbow and propping his head up on his hand. “There,” he said drolly. “Satisfied?”

“I could just let you get hypothermia, you know,” Brady said pointedly as she scooted as close to him as she could get.

His clothes were wet, but she hoped that she had enough body heat to keep both of them warm. Ronon sighed again and pressed himself against the bars. He stuck one arm through and put it under Brady's cheek.

“Gimme your hands,” he said. He took her wrists in his hands and pulled them through the bars, slipping her arms beneath his shirt.

“Skin to skin contact,” Brady said, nodding with a swallow. “Always best.”

“Depends on whose skin it is,” Ronon said, his voice low.

“You guys _do_ realize you aren't alone, right? We’re in a life-or-death situation and you’re over there kanoodling.”

Brady chuckled. “Good to hear from you, Reynolds.”

The major groaned as he sat up. “Believe me, it's good to be heard.”

Ronon shivered again and Brady absently rubbed his chest. There was nothing sexual about their embrace, yet she couldn't quite ignore the firmness of his muscles or the way they quivered beneath her touch.

“What happened, major?” Daniel asked.

Reynolds sighed. “He gave me an injection of something. Next thing I know, he's quizzing me on our mission here and who Ronon is.”

“Did you tell him about Atlantis?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes,” Reynolds said, his voice full of regret. “Yeah, now the bastard knows the SGC has access to a whole other galaxy.”

Mitchell swore. “It isn't your fault, Reynolds,” he assured the other man.

“Maybe not, but it sure as hell feels that way,” Reynolds replied.

“Guess I'm next,” Brady said. “Any advice?” she asked the group. Ronon draped his other arm across Brady's hip, holding her close.

“Try to remember that you're a genius and don't do anything stupid,” he said.

“Ronon pretty much nailed it,” Mitchell called.

“Guys, a little credit please,” Brady said. “I'm not going to try to fight the guy without at least knowing how to get off this ship. But I'm not going to just keep laying around watching us get dragged off one by one until we stop coming back.”

The tell-tale sound of Jaffa footsteps clanked down the hall. Brady shoved away from Ronon and rolled to her feet as Baal's Prime stopped in front of her cell and opened the door.

“My lord Baal requests your presence,” the Prime said.

“Tell your lord Baal I said to stuff it,” Brady said, raising her chin.

The Prime started forward and Brady saw Ronon slowly move down the bars, tracking the Jaffa's footsteps. His expression was feral and his gaze never wavered as the Prime advanced toward Brady.

“You will come with me,” the man said, raising a Zat.

“Why the formality?” Brady asked. “Why not whack me on the head and take me off to torture?”

The Prime smiled. “My lord wishes to speak with you first,” he replied. “Save your bravery for another time, Tau'ri. You will need it.”

Brady saw Ronon tense and set his feet. She stepped toward the Prime, drawing Ronon's eye. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head and allowed the Jaffa to escort her from her cell.

Daniel, Cam, and Reynolds were shouting at the Prime, but Brady never took her eyes off Ronon, who watched with silent fury as she was led away.

–

“You have one hour.”

Brady stumbled forward into Ronon's cell as Baal's Prime shoved her forward. He slammed the door shut and reactivated the field. Ronon caught Brady by the arms, steadying her.

“What's going on?” he asked. “Why'd he put you in here?”

Brady raised her eyes to his and kept her expression blank. Ronon knew, somewhere deep down, that something was wrong.

“What did you do, Brady?” he asked quietly.

“What's going on over there?” Daniel called. “Ronon?”

Ronon ignored him. “Brady,” he said, giving her a gentle shake. “What...?”

“I made a deal with Baal,” Brady said. “For the four of you to be released unharmed. You will be taken back to the stargate and allowed to return to the SGC.”

“Damn your self-sacrificing, Brady,” Ronon said savagely. “Why do you always manage to get yourself--?”

“I only have an hour here, Ronon,” Brady interrupted. “I didn't come here to fight with you.”

“Why would Baal put you in here?” Ronon asked. “It doesn't make sense.”

“It's my other part of the bargain,” Brady said. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as her hands untucked her tank top and pulled it over her head. “I figure if I'm going to stay here, I don't have to worry about the awkward aftereffects of having sex with you.”

“Um...”

“Shut up,” she whispered, stepping toe-to-toe with him. She looked up into his eyes and brought a hand to his cheek. “Your skin is so soft,” she said with a small smile.

Ronon swallowed and cleared his throat. “Brady, this isn't—we have to try to get out of here. All of us.”

She shook her head, sliding her hand around to cup the back of his neck. “There isn't any other way out. Vala has already been reintroduced to a Goa'uld symbiote and Baal agreed that my knowledge of the Pegasus galaxy is sufficient for now. When you get home, tell Sheppard to up security. If Baal breaks me, he might show up in our galaxy within the next few months.”

“But--”

“Shh,” she whispered, pulling his head down to hers. “No more talking.”

She brushed her lips over his, lightly at first, then with a little more daring. Ronon started to speak, to stop this madness before it got out of hand, but Brady sighed softly and gently nipped his bottom lip between her teeth. His eyes fluttered closed and he inhaled sharply before catching her face in his hands and closing his mouth over hers. Her tongue begged entry and he obligingly opened his lips for her, nearly losing himself in the taste of her. His hands roamed up her back and he gripped her shoulders, prying her away from him before it was too late. "Brady--" His eyes opened just as Brady pulled a lethal looking stiletto out of her back pocket and thrust it toward his neck. He knocked her hand away and shoved her back. She lunged at him, swiping at him with the blade. "What the hell's going on?" Mitchell called. Brady fought hard, not pulling her punches. Ronon's head snapped to the side as she landed a strike to his jaw. He gripped her hand and giving a vicious twist, making her drop her knife. She elbowed his ribs and he cursed himself for training with her so much. "Ronon!" Daniel called. "Sorry about this Brady," Ronon said as he spun her toward the bars that separated their cells. She reached out to catch herself and Ronon took advantage of her busy hands, cupping the back of her head in his hand and slamming her forehead against the bars. -- Brady groaned as she regained consciousness. She brought a hand to her head and felt a large goose egg. “You ok? I mean, you aren't gonna try to kill me again, right?" "Not to my immediate knowledge," Brady said peering through the darkness at Ronon. She lay in the floor with her head resting on his outstretched leg. "What happened?" “We were hoping you could tell us," Reynolds called. She dropped her hand and sighed. "Baal," she said. "He shot me up with something and told me...told me to kill you," she said, looking up at Ronon. "I--I didn't even question it. I just knew I wanted to distract and dispatch. That's what he told me to do." She frowned. “Did you slam my head against metal bars?” she asked accusingly.

“You didn't really give me a choice,” he answered, lightly brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You came on like a drunken Ioki saloon girl, then--”

“I beg your pardon?!” Brady hissed, sitting up quickly. She closed her eyes and waiting for the nausea to pass. “I did what?”

“You don't remember, uh...trying to seduce Ronon?” Daniel asked.

“No!” Brady said.

“It was a good idea, really,” Daniel said. “You said Baal's orders were to distract and dispatch. It's true that the fastest way to distract most men is for a woman to show him her...” There was an awkward pause. “I'm gonna stop talking now.”

“That'd probably be a good idea,” Mitchell said. “Anyway, Brady, it's a good thing Ronon's bigger'n you, otherwise we would be in a lot more trouble than we already are.”

“What you said about Vala,” Daniel called. “Was it true? Has she been reintroduced to a symbiote?”

Brady paused to think. “I don't think so,” she said finally. “I caught a glimpse of her when they took me down a hallway. She looked like herself, you know. Like as soon as somebody let their guard down, she'd start kicking ass and taking names.”

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. “Ok. Ok, that's...good. That's good.”

“We need to get out of here,” Ronon said. “We just need to get Vala, kill Baal, and get the hell out.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mitchell asked.

“Not that I'm against killing Baal,” Daniel said. “But I'd settle for getting Vala and getting out.”

“Agreed,” Reynolds said.

“Fine,” Ronon said. “Whatever. So...?”

“Anybody got any ideas?” Brady asked.

“Um...actually, I might have one,” Daniel said.

–

The Jaffa Prime came back for Brady exactly one hour after he had deposited her in Ronon's cell. He found her standing in the corner, her thin-bladed knife dripping crimson drops onto the floor. Ronon lay motionless on his back, a dark bloodstain creeping across his shirt beneath the hand that clutched his stomach.

“It is finished then?” the Prime asked. “My lord Baal will be pleased.”

He opened the cell and stepped inside, holding out a hand to retrieve Brady's knife. She backed into the corner and changed her hold on the blade's handle.

“Don't be foolish, Tau'ri,” he said in a bored voice. “I would hate to have to kill you before I'm ordered to do so.”

“Such a sensitive guy,” Brady said as the Jaffa approached. “Wouldn't you agree?” she asked as he powered up his Zat.

“Not the word I'd use.”

The Prime whirled at the sound of Ronon's voice, raising his weapon, but the Satedan was faster, grabbing the man's wrist and elbowing him in the face. Ronon kicked the Jaffa's legs out from under him and jerked the Zat from his grasp. He shot the Prime and stepped toward the open cell door. Brady hurried after him.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Mitchell said, waving them toward his cell. Ronon waved his hand in front of the lock, deactivating the shield. Brady did the same to Daniel's cell while Ronon moved to Reynolds'.

“Hey you,” Brady said, giving Daniel a tight hug. Daniel returned her hug, wincing as he pulled his bruised ribs. “What say we get out of here?”

“Let’s.”

“Vala was in a chamber one level up,” Brady said. “Ronon and Daniel, you come with me. Cam, can you and Major Reynolds provide a distraction and buy us a little time?”

“Look who’s gung-ho commando all of a sudden,” Mitchell said with a pat on her back. “Just this once, kid, I’ll let you take over. Reynolds and I will take care of the guards and meet you in the main corridor in ten minutes.”

“That’s not much time,” Ronon said.

“That’s all you’ll have. Any longer and the rest of Baal’s Jaffa will have time to regroup and head after us.” He looked at Brady and nodded. “We’ll see ya out there.”

The groups separated and Brady led the two men down the corridor toward the transport. They went up toward Vala’s chamber.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” Ronon muttered.

“How far is it?”

“Just around the corner up ahead,” Brady said.

They hurried down the hallway and rounded the corner, stopping short as a Jaffa came flying out a doorway a few feet ahead, crashed against the opposite wall, and fell to the floor in a heap.

“—bastard!” Vala stormed from the room, blaster in hand, and kicked the fallen Jaffa in the side of his helmet. She straightened and caught sight of Brady and the others, heaving a sigh of relief. “Oh, there you are! Where the hell have you been? Where’re the others?”

“They’re buying us time to rescue you,” Daniel said.

Vala scoffed and shouldered the blaster. “As if I need you to rescue me, Daniel? Really.”

“Can you two quip at each other later?” Brady asked. “We need to hit the road before anybody—“ Her sentence was cut short as blaster fire exploded next to her head. Ronon grabbed her shoulder and pulled her across the hall.

“Go. Now!” he shouted, giving her a shove.

They ran, ducking and dodging bolts from Jaffa staff weapons. Vala filled them in as they made their escape.

“He wanted to reintroduce a Goa’uld into my body,” she shouted. “Can you imagine?” She gave another scoff. “Like hell. So when Baal’s clone returned with—“

“Whoa, whoa. Baal’s _clone_?” Brady asked. “When did that happen?”

“You’ve been gone. Things happen,” Vala said. They emerged from a transport and bolted down the corridor with Ronon leading the way toward Cam and Reynolds. “As I was saying, Baal’s clone returned with the Goa’uld, they tried to restrain me and I…fought back.”

“Big surprise,” Daniel said.

“I did a little divide and conquer, and one of the Jaffa caught a blast from the other’s staff weapon. I incapacitated the remaining Jaffa and fought with Baal—“

“Long story, short, Vala!” Daniel shouted, swearing as another group of Jaffa appeared at the end of the corridor. He hit the switch that closed the doors as he ran past it.

“I kicked the clone’s ass and killed him, then took out the last Jaffa.”

“Good seeing you, Vala,” Cam said as they ran into him and Reynolds. “Pack it up, children. This place is gonna light up like a birthday cake in about three minutes.”

“What did you do?” Daniel asked.

“We put a nice wrinkle in Baal’s day,” Cam said with a smile. “Hope he’s not attached to this ship.”

“He’s not attached to much of anything anymore,” Daniel said. “Well, that one’s not, anyway.”

“Aw, shit. Another clone?”

“I’m afraid so,” Vala said.

“Ladies,” Brady interrupted. She waved her hands. “Jaffa, explosion, death. Shall we go?”

“Right behind you, kid,” Cam said.

Brady tugged Ronon’s arm and together the group ran from the mothership.

– Ronon shook hands with Mitchell and Reynolds—fellow warriors, by his estimation. He eyed Daniel silently. Daniel's lips curved into a small smile, which Ronon hesitantly returned. Brady watched the exchange with curiosity, unaware of the age old Alpha-Male sizing up that was taking place. After a moment, Daniel held out his hand and Ronon shook it, slapping the other man on the shoulder before picking up Brady's backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Daniel winced and covered his busted rib, stepping away from the others and putting his arms around Brady.

“They grow up so fast,” he said lightly. “Once upon a time it was _me_ getting _you_ out of trouble.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, well...Sheppard would probably say I still get in enough trouble. You were a good teacher.”

Daniel smiled, his dimples on full display. “Take care of yourself, Brady,” he said as he patted her back.

“Always,” she said quietly. “I miss you, you know.”

“We miss you here too,” Daniel said, pulling back and looking at her. “But you're doing your thing in Pegasus. And from what I hear, you're damn good at it.”

She snorted. “Of course I'm good at it,” she said.

“Time to go, Brady,” Mitchell called as countdown sequence began. He gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming,” he said, smiling.

“I'd been meaning to check in on you guys anyway,” she replied with a grin. She looked at Vala, who stood next to Cam, and her smile turned a little more sentimental. She held out her arms for a hug and the brunette rushed forward.

“I'm gonna miss you. I've got to get used to not having you all over again,” Vala said, squeezing her tightly.

“It'll be ok,” Brady assured her. “If you need me, I'm only a wormhole away.”

Vala nodded and stepped back with a watery smile. “I've always been horrible saying goodbye.”

“Good Lord, Vala. She's not dying, she's just going to Atlantis,” Mitchell said dryly, draping an arm over the alien's shoulder. “You better go before you miss the bus,” he added, pointing toward the embarkation room.

Brady left them in the hallway with a small wave and joined Ronon at the base of the gate ramp.

“Ready to go home?” she asked him.

“Chevron seven is locked. Pegasus wormhole established.”

“Are you?” he countered, glancing over his shoulder at SG-1 as they watched from the control room.

Brady glanced back and waved one more time before slapping Ronon on the shoulder and jerking her head toward the event horizon. “Come on. Last one through buys drinks tonight.”

She strode up the ramp without a look back.

–

Brady unpacked her bag, tucking her clean clothes into her dresser and tossing the dirty clothes in her hamper. She made up her bed and fell across it, sighing deeply as she burrowed into the soft blanket. The next thing she knew, someone was tapping her booted foot. "Hey," Ronon said, gently shaking her again. "You going to dinner?" "Dinner?" Brady repeated groggily. She stretched with a squeak of appreciation as her muscles lengthened. "I didn't mean to sleep so long. I have to go debrief Sheppard." She paused and rubbed her eyes. "That sounded dirty, but that's not what I meant." Ronon chuckled. "Why don't you wake up a little more before you try to hold an intelligent conversation?" he teased. She grunted and rolled into her back, draping an arm across her eyes. After a minute she let out a breath and dropped her arms to her side, cracking open an eye and peering up at Ronon. "It's been a long couple of days," she said with a grin. "I agree," he said. "Complete with complimentary seduction." Brady groaned. "I wondered how long it was gonna take you to bring that up again," she said, blushing as she sat up. “One good turn deserves another. Remember Ingram?” she asked teasingly. “Look, at the time all I knew was that I wanted to get you to let your guard down,” she explained, picking at her fingertips. She eyed Ronon and shrugged as he stepped closer to her bed. “It wasn't my--”

Her words stopped as he suddenly leaned down to close his mouth over hers. His lips nipped and caressed hers; his tongue lightly traced her bottom lip. Surprised, Brady laid one hand over his and placed the other against his chest, pushing slightly.

“What's this about?” she asked when he straightened. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Not twelve hours ago you were vehemently rejecting the idea of kissing me.”

Ronon licked his lips and tilted his head to the side, studying her. “Well, technically that wasn't you, was it? I mean, it was more or less Baal.”

“So, what? You just decided--”

“To stop trying to ignore what's going on between us? Yeah, something like that,” he interrupted. “For the past year, Brady, I've done everything I can to try not to get tangled up with you. It's dangerous for teammates to be involved with each other.”

“You sound like Sheppard,” she muttered, glancing at the floor.

“Yeah, well, Sheppard knows his shit,” Ronon said. “Look, you don't want to go this road, that's your choice. But if we're not going to take this anywhere,” he said, waving his finger between the two of them, “then stop--”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Brady said, cutting him off. Ronon stilled and Brady smiled widely. “Were you expecting more of a fight?” she asked, amusement ringing in her voice.

His brows drew together and he watched her suspiciously. “A little, yeah,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a ghost of a smile.

He cupped her face in his large hands and drew her to him, lowering his mouth to hers. Brady smiled into the kiss, sliding her hands around his waist and linking her fingers, locking him in place. Their tongues touched and tasted, eager to dance the dance that had so long been denied them. Ronon's hands slid from her face to her neck and he tilted her head back as he stepped even closer to her, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Brady released her hold and moved her hands to his chest, gripping his shirt in her fists. She moaned as Ronon broke the kiss to trace the line of her jaw with his lips.

Their headsets crackled and Sheppard's voice came over the radio. “Anybody from Alpha seen Ronon?”

Brady's head fell back and she swallowed, struggling to speak. “Sheppard wants--”

“I don't care,” Ronon said, taking off his headset.

“Um, Sheppard, Ronon was heading to, uh, see Brady,” McKay said over the channel.

There was a loaded silence. “Oh,” Sheppard replied. Nothing else was said and Ronon deftly removed Brady's headset with a grin.


	13. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode alert! Dialogue from the show was not written by me (obviously).

** _ REUNION _ ** _ Oct 12 2007 _

The walk from the Gate to the small village was long, but Teyla, Brady, and Ronon chatted companionably. Atlantis had received news of Satedans on this planet and Ronon was eager to see if there was any truth to the story.

“I’m just wondering why you came,” he asked Teyla and Brady as they reached the edge of town. “It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to check it out.”

“Yes, well, John thinks I am better at public relations than you are,” Teyla said with a smile. “And, considering your record with dealing with other people...”

“Stab one guy in the throat and they never let you live it down,” Ronon said, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t so much the stabbing one guy or hitting five. People in villages like this are kinda put off by you,” Brady said.

“What? Why?” Ronon asked.

“Well, you’re...rude.”

“I’m not rude,” he insisted.

“Ronon, five minutes after you met me you called me a nerd. The last time I went on a mission with you I heard you tell man that his daughter looked like Radek in drag.”

“It was true!”

“The girl might have been...unattractive,” Teyla said, “but a certain amount of discretion is needed to conduct relationships with other worlds.”

“Ok, fine. Teyla had to come because I hate people. What about you?” he asked Brady. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was just bored,” she said with a shrug. “Nobody’s found any kind of new artifacts lately so I’ve just been updating some of my old files. Heard you guys were going on a non-combatant excursion and decided to tag along.”

“Praise the gods you’ve finally arrived!”

Ronon and the others looked at the excited villager as he approached them. He looked from Teyla to Brady, examining them.

“Uh...” Brady looked at Teyla questioningly.

“And you are far more beautiful than I ever could have imagined,” he said reverently.

“Excuse me?” Ronon said, stepping closer to the women.

“You have not come for the arranged marriage?” the man asked, already disillusioned.

“No,” Teyla and Brady said at the same time.

The man withered before them but perked up at a new thought.

“Would one—or both—of you perhaps be seeking a husband?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” the women said again.

“Oh,” he said, disappointed again. “Then what brings you to our town?”

“We’ve heard of strangers who recently arrived. A rough-looking group boasting of many Wraith kills,” Teyla said, offering the man a friendly smile to lighten his disappointment.

“Yeah, we think they might be Satedan,” Ronon said.

“Big guys,” Brady said, holding her arms above her head. “Probably rude,” she added, glancing at Ronon with a cheeky smirk.

“Ah, yes. You mean the three loud-mouthed drunkards who spend their days carousing at the tavern.”

“Sounds like my people,” Ronon said with a smile and a nod.

“They’ve taken rooms at the local inn,” the villager said.

Teyla thanked the man, smiling again.

“You are most welcome,” he said, taking a step closer to her and Brady. “And should you ever reconsider your desire for a husband—“

Ronon took a threatening step forward and the villager turned and ran. Brady arched a brow.

“As we were just discussing: rude,” Teyla said with an indulgent grin.

“Hey, I didn’t hit him,” Ronon said. “I consider it a win. All right. I’ll check the inn. You check the tavern,” he said, walking away.

Brady shook her head with a small smile before turning to follow Teyla.

“He’s excited,” she said. “He’s trying to hide it, but he is.”

“Yes, well...I hope he is not disappointed. The last time he encountered a survivor from Sateda, things did not go well.”

“Maybe these guys will be cool,” Brady said hopefully.

“Perhaps,” Teyla replied. She strolled ahead and spoke to the bartender. “Hello. I’m looking for three individuals who recently arrived. I’ve heard they are voracious eaters and drinkers, and apparently they’ve been quite vocal about their recent successes against the Wraith.”

“Chances are they’re rude, too,” Brady added, leaning against the bar.

“These people you’re looking for,” a man said, stepping up beside Teyla. “They’re either very brave or very stupid.”

“How so?” Teyla asked.

“Well,” the man continued, eyeing Teyla closely. “If word of their bragging got back to the Wraith, it could be very bad for them.”

Brady leaned around Teyla, but the man never even spared her a glance. “This place isn’t exactly swarming with Wraith, ya know?”

“I doubt they need to fear a Wraith overhearing their conversation,” Teyla added.

“Of course not,” he said. “But the Wraith don’t always need their own ears to hear.”

Brady rolled her eyes. “Paranoid,” she muttered.

Teyla cast a look over her shoulder and Brady smiled apologetically.

“Do you know the people whom we seek?” Teyla asked the stranger.

“Sorry. I mind my own business. Which is something _you_ might want to consider,” he warned, flicking a gaze at Brady. “Especially with the mouth your companion has.”

Teyla smiled coolly. “Well, _you_ might want to consider offering your unsolicited advice to someone who actually cares to receive it,” she said slowly, as if she were speaking to a child. “Come, Brady,” she said, turning away from the stranger.

The man reached out and gripped Teyla’s wrist. Brady tensed for battle, but Teyla gave a sharp shake of her head.

“An attitude like that could get you hurt,” the man said, squeezing Teyla’s wrist. “Or worse.”

Brady backed away from the bar, slowly circling around the stranger and Teyla, ready to intervene if anything got out of hand. Teyla swung her free hand at the man, but he blocked it. She worked her other hand loose and landed a solid punch to his face. Brady heard chairs scraping back and turned to the man and woman approaching. She engaged the large man, assuming Teyla could handle the first man and the smaller woman.

Her opponent was powerful and his punches brutal. He punched her in the stomach and stole her breath. She doubled over and spun beneath his grab, kicking him in the back. He stumbled forward but swung around, hitting her in the face with the back of his fist. She was too slow to recover and the big man wrapped his arms around her and roughly gripping her throat, holding her in place against his chest. She struggled for breath, clawing at her opponent’s hands. The woman Teyla was fighting pushed her back against the bar and drew a knife, holding it firmly against Teyla’s throat.

“What’s the first to go?” she asked. “The ears, or those pretty eyes?”

Brady struggled against her captor, but her attempts were futile. His hand crept up to cradle her bruised jaw in a crushing grip. She spat as blood from her busted lip flooded her mouth. The man’s other arm tightened across her body, pressing her back against him. She would have panicked if not for the sound of Ronon’s gun powering up.

“How about your head?”

The man holding her turned quickly, dragging her with him and using her as a shield.

“Ronon!”

Brady frowned as the brunette smiled.

“Ara! Rakai!” Ronon said, returning her smile and holstering his weapon.

The woman called Ara shoved away from Teyla with a laugh and ran toward Ronon. Brady was all but thrown into a table as Rakai released her and hurried over as well. She gasped for breath, wiping her bloody mouth on the back of her hand as she watched Ronon pick Ara up and give her a tight hug. She looked back at Teyla, who was holding her own jaw. She heard a chuckle and saw that the third man, the one who had actually initiated the fight, was slowly strolling over to join the happy trio of Satedans.

“What the hell is going on?” Brady croaked, propping a hip against the bar where Teyla still stood. She glared at the knife-wielding brunette as she hugged up against Ronon again.

“Apparently these three are the Satedans we were looking for,” Teyla said. She placed her fingertips on Brady’s chin and drew her face to look at her. “You’ll want to take care with your lip,” she said, frowning as she examined the split.

“I’ll live,” Brady said, crossing her arms over her chest and tossing her hair out of her eyes. “Oh, look,” she said dryly. “We’re being beckoned.”

Teyla turned to see Ronon waving them over to the table. “At least he remembers we are here,” she said with a smile.

“Bring drinks!” Ronon called, immediately turning his attention back to the Satedans.

“Jackass,” Brady muttered.

“We did come in search of them,” Teyla reminded her.

“But we didn’t come in search of getting our butts kicked,” Brady countered.

“Still, the hospitality of our people is something in which we must be consistent.”

“Fine,” Brady sighed, turning back to the bar.

When the bartender filled the order, she and Teyla carried the drinks to the table. She sat a tankard in front of Tyre and passed one to Ronon before she sat down. Tyre nodded to her, a smile on his lips.

“Your friend should see to her mouth,” he said pleasantly.

“I’ll—“

“She’ll be fine,” Ronon said, slapping Brady on the back so that she lurched forward, sloshing ale onto the table. “And since when do you go around hitting girls?” he asked Rakai with a laugh, shoving the man’s shoulder.

“We didn’t know who was asking about us,” Rakai replied with a shrug.

Brady scowled as the topic was essentially dismissed. She looked at Teyla with an expression that clearly said _Really?_

Teyla tilted her head and gave a small shrug, sighing. The women settled back, all but forgotten, and listened to the Satedans catch up. The trio of newcomers told of their escape, of how a network of caves saved them from the Wraith darts. Brady put her hand on Ronon’s leg beneath the table as he lamented about leaving his comrades behind, knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate an open sign of comfort in front of his buddies. His warm hand covered hers and Brady relaxed a bit.

“If we’d have gone back with you, then we would have died in the attack on Sateda,” Rakai was saying. He lowered his eyes to his tankard briefly. Brady didn’t miss the glance he gave her before his gaze settled back on Ronon. “Along with Melena and everybody else. The only reason why _you_ survived was ‘cause they made you a Runner.”

“You heard about that?” Ronon asked, releasing her hand and leaning his arms on the table.

“A while back we started hearing stories,” Tyre said.

“That you were seven feet tall and had the strength of five men,” Ara added.

Ronon smiled and looked at his tankard. “Yeah well...people like to exaggerate.”

“They also said you killed a hundred Wraith,” Rakai said.

“That part sounds about right,” Ronon admitted.

“Well then,” Tyre said, raising his cup in a toast. “To the misery of our enemies and the reunion of friends come back from the dead.”

Teyla and Brady exchanged a glance before tapping their tankards with the Satedans’.

\--

Brady jerked awake as someone slammed a tankard on the table. She scrubbed a hand over her face and took in the scene. The big guy, Rakai, was tapping an old-fashioned ink needle onto Ronon’s arm.

Great.

“Good to see that alcohol and tattoos are an intergalactic combination,” she muttered, twisting her neck in attempt to loosen the muscles. “At least it isn’t a dagger with a snake on it.”

“It is a Satedan mark of honor,” Ara said haughtily.

It looked like a bunch of triangles to Brady, but she wasn’t really in the mood to get into a fight with the brunette.

Not now, anyway.

“OW!” Ronon exclaimed. He slapped Rakai in the face. Ara choked on her ale, spraying a bit on Brady. The Satedan giggled, and Ronon grinned at her and Rakai and began talking about killing Wraith.

Again.

Brady looked at Teyla and leaned over, speaking softly. “How long could they possibly sit around and drink?”

“Something tells me it could be a good while longer,” Teyla replied.

“We have to check in at home in an hour,” Brady reminded her. She turned her attention back to the Satedans.

“I might be able to help,” Ronon was saying. I’ve got manpower, the equipment. My friends and I, we can...” He pointed to Brady and Teyla, but caught the significance of their expressions and trailed off. “Uh, anyway...um...to Morika and Hemi,” he said, lifting his tankard.

The group tapped their tankards together again and continued drinking.

Brady leaned over and whispered to Ronon. “We have to check in with command in a little less than an hour.”

“You certainly are a whispery little thing,” Rakai said pointedly, taking a drink. “Is your new woman docile, Ronon?”

“She’s not my wom—“ Ronon began.

“I’m not docile,” Brady said at the same time. She caught Ronon’s words and squelched the hurt she felt. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted by romantic issues. She cleared her throat and looked at Rakai. “I was just reminding them of our plans for the evening. We have somewhere to be.”

She pushed herself to her feet and nodded at the Satedans. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again,” she said. She picked up her pack and slung it on, looking at Teyla. “I’m going on ahead,” she explained. “We’ll be late otherwise. Take your time,” she added, glancing at Ronon.

The trip back to the gate was boring. It had been a long time since Brady had been on a foreign planet by herself, and those memories weren’t really pleasant to dwell on. Still, she sang and talked to herself—anything to keep from thinking about anything important.

Like Ronon blatantly saying she wasn’t his woman.

She sighed as the DHD came into view. She dialed Atlantis and stepped through the event horizon. “You can shut it down, Chuck,” she called. “It’s just me.”

“Where are Ronon and Teyla?” Sheppard asked, coming down the stairs.

“Back at the village with the Satedans,” Brady said. “They’ll be along shortly.”

“I take it the meeting didn’t go so well?” Sheppard asked, gently cupping her chin and examining her bruised and bloodied face.

Brady pulled away and started down the hallway to her chambers, only to have Sheppard take her by the shoulders and point her down the corridor that led to the infirmary. She sighed, but continued on without protest.

“It went fine, once Ronon showed up. The Satedans weren’t exactly welcoming to strangers looking for them.”

“I bet that went over well,” Sheppard said. “Especially when Ronon got a look at your face.”

“Is it that bad?” Brady asked with a frown. She peered into a window trying to catch her reflection.

“You look like crap,” Sheppard said apologetically. “So what do you think about them?”

“I think they’re all assholes,” Brady said. “They’ve got issues, that’s for sure. You shoulda seen the way they kept trying to alienate me and Teyla from Ronon. They brought up Melena—“

“That’s Ronon’s wife...or whatever, right?” Sheppard asked.

“Yeah. And Rakai, the guy who brought her up first—the one who gave me this face, by the way—he gave me this look before he said something about her. I don’t think Ronon even noticed. But the guy’s definitely a douche. He brought up Melena ‘cause he knew Ronon would shut me out. And he did,” she admitted grimly.

“Sounds like we shouldn’t trust them,” Sheppard said thoughtfully.

Brady sighed again. “Look, Ronon’s going to want you to meet with them and I don’t want to sway your observations one way or another. Should we trust them? I honestly don’t know. They said they killed a lot of Wraith. Ronon trusts them.”

“Ronon wants to believe in anything to do with Sateda,” Sheppard pointed out.

“All I know is character-wise, they’re effin’ a-holes,” Brady said, stopping outside the infirmary door. “The trust thing is something you’re gonna have to make the call on.”

Sheppard nodded and opened the door, waving Dr. Keller over to tend to Brady’s busted face.

\--

Brady sat in the chair behind her desk, kicked back and staring at the ceiling. She had a stack of artifacts to catalog, but since Teyla and Ronon had returned from the village, she had been distracted. Her door chimed and she sighed.

“Come in.”

Rodney entered carrying a stack of files. He looked at the pile on her desk and hesitated. “I brought...well, I guess I can give them to someone else,” he said.

“That's uncharacteristically thoughtful of you,” Brady said with a wry smile. She pivoted in her chair and looked at him. “What's with you?”

“The question is, what's with Ronon?” McKay asked. “I mean, ever since he got back from that planet he's been even edgier than usual. You shoulda seen him staring down Sam when she wouldn't let him bring his friends to Atlantis.”

“I think he's feeling divided, torn between his life here and the life he had with Tyre and the others.”

“What, are you a psychologist on top of everything else?” McKay asked, plopping down in a chair across from her.

“I'm just saying that he's got a lot on his mind,” Brady said. “We should give him a break, ya know?”

“Is that why you're hidden away in here?”

Brady sat up and began shuffling through a stack of papers. “I have work to do,” she said dismissively with a sniff. “Pass your files along to Dr. Reynard. I'm sure he'll have time to look them over.”

“Mm-hmm,” McKay grunted knowingly. He tucked his files beneath his arm and left her office without another word.

\--

Brady slept at her desk, finishing her work late in the night. She woke the next morning and went to her room, jumping through the shower before she went to the gym. She was intent on getting her daily workout in, even if it wasn't her usual time. However, since she wasn't sure what she would be doing later in the day, she thought it would be good to go now. The unmistakable sound of a sparring match reached her ears and she opened the door to the gym, sitting on a bench and watching Teyla and Ronon go at it.

“What're you doing here?” Ronon asked her, not taking his eyes off Teyla.

“I'm not allowed in the gym?”

Ronon blocked Teyla's blindfolded attack and spun away from her, but she swatted him across the back.

“It's not your normal training time,” he said to Brady as he clacked sticks with Teyla. “You didn't come to bed last night. I was just wondering.”

“You didn't come looking for me, either,” Brady said, arching a brow.

Ronon twirled his fighting stick, not responding to her, and Teyla followed the sound of the stick as he circled her. He lunged at her but she defended with ease, whacking him on the head as he passed.

“Perhaps Brady would like to spar with me,” Teyla said to Ronon. “You seem distracted today.”

“No, I'm fine,” he insisted.

Teyla nodded and lifted her sticks. Brady winced as Teyla tagged Ronon again.

“What's wrong?” Teyla asked.

“Nothing. I told you, I'm fine.”

“Very well,” Teyla said. “I suppose we should just continue training.”

Brady watched as Teyla hit Ronon again. He groaned as he took a knee.

“Maybe you should call it a day,” she said.

“There's nothing--”

Ronon's words were cut short as Teyla's stick made contact with his head once more. Brady shook her head sympathetically.

“Ok,” Ronon said, standing quickly and walking away from Teyla. “Stop hitting me!”

Teyla pulled off her blindfold and looked over at Brady as they waited for Ronon to speak. Ronon also looked at Brady and she didn't like the look of his eyes. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn't making him happy.

“I'm thinking of leaving Atlantis,” Ronon said quietly, dropping his eyes from hers and turning back to Teyla.

Brady was on her feet and standing beside Teyla in no time.

“Where would you go?” Teyla asked.

Ronon arched a brow and Brady knew immediately. “With Tyre. Hunting Wraith,” she surmised. “Ronon...”

“Must it come down to a choice between Atlantis and your Satedan friends?” Teyla demanded gently.

“They're more than my friends, Teyla,” Ronon said. “They're my family.”

“Well what the hell are we?” Brady asked heatedly.

“We've always been there for each other,” he explained. “You wouldn't understand.”

_Wouldn't understand? _she repeated angrily in her head.

“I left everything—_everything_\--I'd ever known to come here and fight for _your_ galaxy. The SGC was my home, Ronon. The people there were my family. Yet, here I am because this is where I'm needed.”

“They need me,” he insisted stubbornly.

Brady shook her head and turned on her heel, leaving the gym. Maybe it wasn't the most mature thing she'd ever done, but it was better than getting into a full-blown argument with Ronon given their heightened emotions.

“Whoa,” Sheppard said as Brady rounded a corner and nearly plowed into him. “What's going on?”

“Nothing,” she said. It wasn't her place to tell Shep about Ronon's dilemma. Besides, she hoped that Teyla could talk some sense into him. “Just left the gym. Heading to the office.”

“Did you sleep last night?”

Brady's eyes skittered away from his. “Some,” she evaded.

“Brady, go to your quarters and get some sleep. I need you sharp.”

“But--”

The look Sheppard gave her was enough for her not to push the point. She realized that he was just as on edge as she was over the Ronon situation and, out of respect for him, she went to her quarters without protest.

\--

Brady entered the dining hall and picked up a sandwich. She scanned the room and saw Ronon and Sheppard sitting at their usual table. Brady sighed and decided to be the bigger man, so to speak. She wondered as she crossed the cafeteria if she would be so irritable over this whole ordeal if she and Ronon hadn't been sleeping together. She imagined that she would, since she'd been a sucker for him almost as long as she'd been on Atlantis. Lovers or not, the thought of him leaving hurt like hell.

She caught the end of his and Sheppard's conversation as she approached the table.

“You're one man, Ronon. You can't expect to protect them forever.”

“Can I sit?” she asked.

Ronon looked at her and straightened in his chair, nudging the chair beside him with his foot. “Have a seat,” he said, turning his attention back to Sheppard. “You're probably right, but that's where you guys come in. We got some intel on a Wraith target.”

“What kind of intel?” Brady asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sheppard said, shaking his head. “In case you’ve forgotten, the Wraith and the Replicators are kind of beating the crap out of each other right now. I think it’s counterproductive to run an op against ‘em.”

Ronon smirked. “I have a feeling you'll change your mind once you hear the details.”

“Well, let's hear it,” Sheppard said.

“Not yet,” Ronon replied, shaking his head. He looked from Sheppard to Brady then back again. “I want Tyre, Ara, and Rakai in on this.”

Brady muttered a curse and bit into her sandwich.

“Nobody says you have to go,” Ronon pointed out. “There isn't really room for a linguist in this type of op.”

“I don't see how there'll be room for_ anyone _once you pack your Satedan ego in with three others,” Brady said, holding his gaze.

Ronon's lips curved. “I told Rakai you weren’t docile,” he said, popping a grape into his mouth and grinning at her.

“_I _told Rakai I wasn't docile,” Brady corrected. “_You_ told Rakai I wasn't your woman, remember?”

She saw Sheppard grimace and Ronon looked away. “It wasn't like that--”

“No? Well lay it out for me, Ronon, wouldja? Because I would think that by 'she's not my woman' you meant that...oh, I dunno, that I'm not your woman?”

“Rakai was thinking on the terms of Melena,” Ronon said. “Wait. Is this why you've been so bit--” He caught Sheppard's headshake and changed whatever he was going to say. “Is this why you've been so distant the past couple of days? You're mad at me?”

“I'm not mad at you,” Brady said, standing and gathering her trash. “I just don’t want you being manipulated into doing something you shouldn’t do.”

“They’re my family, Brady.”

“So you’ve said,” she said quietly. She walked toward the trash bins, glancing at him when he caught up with her.

“Come with me,” Ronon said sternly, taking her by the wrist and pulling her down the hall.

“What are you—hey!” she protested, jerking her arm out of his grasp as he shoved her into a dark room. “Ronon, this is a closet.”

He swore and pulled her from the room, dragging her across the hall and into a transporter. The doors opened a second later and they were in a dimly lit corridor.

“We need to talk,” Ronon said. “You can be mad at me if you want—“

“Oh, thanks for the permission,” Brady said dryly. “I told you I’m not—“

“You are mad. You’re mad because I didn’t tell Rakai and the others that you’re with me.”

Brady crossed her arms and looked at him. “_If_ I was mad, it would be because you made a point to _say_ that I wasn’t with you. If it had just been a silent omission, I probably wouldn’t care as much.”

“I told you, they were speaking on terms of my relationship with Melena,” he said gruffly. “She was Satedan. There was a bonding ceremony that...Look, it was just completely different than what we’re doing here.” Brady nodded and Ronon cursed. “Stop. Stop being so damned agreeable, Brady. You’re pissed off. Yell or something. It’s not like you’ve never yelled at me.”

“I don’t want to yell at you, Ronon.” She shrugged and dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m glad you explained,” she said, smiling sadly. “Look, we should get back to central city. If we’re going to meet with Tyre, Sheppard will want us ready to gate out.”

She started past him to get in the transporter, but he caught her cheek in his palm and lowered his lips to hers. Brady winced as his mouth bumped her split skin, but he kissed her carefully. His lips moved to her cheek and softly fluttered over the bruises there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her ear, drawing her close.

Brady shook her head and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I can’t compete with a ghost,” she said quietly.

Ronon gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back so that he could see her eyes. He frowned at her, lightly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“You don’t have to,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would you think...?”

“Melena was everything I’m not,” Brady said. “I can’t help but think when I’m with you how I measure up to her.”

Ronon made a sound that was a combination of a chuckle and a groan. “You’re so stupid sometimes,” he said. “Brady, when I’m with you, you wanna know what I think about? I think about you. That’s it. I would never have started a relationship with you if I still thought about Melena. It was time to move on, and I did. You’re infuriating at times, but I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

Their headsets crackled and Sheppard’s voice came on the radio. “Anybody seen Ronon?”

He smiled at Brady and stepped aside so that she could get in the transporter. “I’m here, Sheppard. Heading to central.”

“Well get a move on if you want to go meet with your friends.”

“We’ll be right there,” he said, closing the line.

\--

Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, and Brady filed into the village. After inquiring about the three Satedans, they walked to the outskirts of town and found a small field surrounded by trees. Unsurprisingly, Ara and Rakai were in the center of the grassy meadow fighting.

Tyre saw the team approach and whistled, drawing the attention of the others. He strolled over to Ronon, slapping him on the shoulder in greeting.

“Tyre, you remember Teyla and Brady,” Ronon said, waving a hand toward them. “This is Rodney McKay and John Sheppard. Sheppard, this is Tyre, and that’s Ara and Rakai,” he said, pointing to the two who were approaching.

Brady tried to keep her expression neutral as Rakai raked a slow gaze over her and Teyla. Her skin crawled as he smiled at her.

Ick.

“Ronon, I see you brought your entourage,” Ara said, smiling. She shook Sheppard’s hand before turning her attention to Brady. “Do you take your librarians everywhere?”

“Librar—I happen to be—“

“Never know when you’ll need someone smart,” Sheppard said coolly, interrupting McKay’s stuttering tirade.

“It’s dangerous though, isn’t it? Someone has to watch out for them, right?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m only teasing, little bookworm,” she said as Brady’s eyes narrowed.

_Yeah, right,_ Brady thought.

“Brady’s a seasoned warrior on her planet,” Ronon said.

“Really?” Ara asked, raising a brow. “Care to brawl?”

“Um...no, I’m fine, thanks,” Brady said.

“Oh, come on,” Ara said, her eyes cold. “I’ll take it easy on you.”

“Ara,” Tyre said. “We have things to discuss.”

“If she’s afraid to join in a friendly sparring match, then what good is she to us on this mission?” Ara asked.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Brady said, scoffing. “We have more important things to do than waste time with me rolling around in the dirt with someone who’s supposed to be on the same team as me.”

Ara offered a smug smile and nodded, throwing a look at Tyre. She spoke in Satedan and Ronon replied, his voice deep and sharp. Ara looked like she wanted to argue, but shook her head and let the matter drop.

“Oh, for the love of...” Brady muttered, removing her pack and unzipping her jacket. She tossed her stuff on the ground and tucked the hem of her AC/DC shirt into her pants. “This is ridiculous,” she growled, striding to the center of the field.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Ara whispered to Tyre.

They wasted no time on pleasantries. Ara attacked the second she was within lunging distance. Brady was surprised by the intensity of her opponent’s punches, but blocked and struck with equal force. If Ara wasn’t holding anything back, she sure as hell wasn’t going to.

Her face caught one of Ara’s fists and she felt her lip split back open. She cursed inwardly; that injury was never gonna heal if she kept this up. She got a few good licks in, connecting with Ara’s ribs and jaw. The Satedan tackled her, pummeling her. Brady kicked her knee up, hitting Ara’s back and knocking her off balance. They rolled, grappling and punching, until Ara gripped Brady’s hair and slammed her head to the ground, dazing her.

Brady heard Sheppard protest but it made little difference. Ara swiftly recovered her footing and put her foot in the middle of Brady’s stomach, knocking the wind from her.

“Never discount anything your opponent might do to win,” she hissed. “Winning the battle is worth any price. That’s the first rule a Satedan warrior learns.” Tyre called her name and the woman turned, walking away from Brady. “She will be no help on this mission,” Ara said arrogantly. “She’s not strong enough to—“

Ara’s cry of shock and pain silenced her haughty assessment as Brady grabbed her by the roots of her hair and jerked her backward. She sprawled on her back as she fell to the ground, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush. Brady put her foot lightly on Ara’s chest, holding her down.

“Never turn your back on your opponent unless you’re certain they’re neutralized,” Brady said, matching Ara’s earlier tone. “That’s the first rule of Jack O’Neill School of Fighting.” She moved her foot and held her hand down to Ara.

“Ara,” Tyre called sharply.

Ara accepted Brady’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. As they rejoined the others, Tyre smiled at Brady.

“You are welcome on this operation,” he said.

“Thanks for the permission,” Brady muttered, receiving a nudge from Teyla. She offered a placating smile to Tyre and dabbed her bloody lip with the back of her hand.

“Come,” Tyre said. “Let’s go someplace more comfortable to discuss our intel.”

He led the way to the road that led back to the village.

“Well...” Sheppard said, watching the trio of Satedans walk away. He looked at Ronon.

“Meeting your friends _certainly_ explains a lot,” McKay said, frowning.

“About what?” Ronon asked.

“Nothing,” Sheppard said, shaking his head. “Come on,” he said, heading toward the place where Tyre stood waiting. Teyla went with him.

Brady turned to follow, but Ronon placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his.

“This is fun, huh?” he said, grinning at her as he poked at her lip.

Brady smiled and lightly batted his hand away. Her tongue darted out to swab over the cut on her mouth. It wasn’t reopened all the way. A little dab of the super glue stuff that Keller had put on it and she’d be right as rain. Ronon draped his arm across her shoulders as they walked toward the others. The group talked little on the way back to town, the half-hearted conversation of strangers who didn’t really care to get to know each other better. Only the four Satedans kept up constant chatter.

Once they were in the tavern, Rakai ordered drinks for everyone and they sprawled at a table. Tyre went over their intel and told Sheppard and his team about the plan. Teyla’s eyebrows raised as she looked at Brady, who nearly choked on her ale when the course of the plan was revealed.

“You wanna hit a Wraith lab?” Sheppard asked. “No offense, but that’s awfully close to Crazy Talk territory.”

“It’s a weapons research facility,” Ara said. “From what we’ve heard, the place is undermanned.”

“And that make a difference because…?” Brady asked.

“We know the Wraith are being attacked on several fronts,” Tyre said. “They don’t have the resources anymore to properly guard all their facilities.”

“Still,” McKay interjected. “She did say ‘undermanned’ rather than ‘unmanned’. There is a big difference.”

“It won’t matter,” Tyre insisted. “We can handle it.”

“Then why do you need our help to pull it off?” Sheppard asked. None of the Satedans liked that at all.

“We don’t,” Tyre said. “But we will need your help to get away once we’re done.”

“What, you think we run a taxi service?” Brady asked.

Tyre pulled a blueprint of the lab complex from his coat and put it on the table. He explained that the compound was too far to walk from the Gate. Reinforcements would arrive at the lab before they could make it back through.

“Don’t worry,” Rakai said. “All you’ve gotta do is fly. We’ll do the leg work.”

“Gee thanks, mister,” Brady said sarcastically. “Look, we don't sit back and wait if we're supposed to be on the frontlines.”

“If we commit, we’re all-in,” Sheppard agreed with a nod.

“I really don’t see why we would,” McKay pointed out.

Brady scanned their surroundings while McKay and Sheppard discussed the cons of risking their lives for a pinch of Wraith tech. All of the villagers in the tavern averted their eyes from the table as if anyone caught watching would immediately be confronted.

Which, she supposed, wasn’t completely unreasonable, given Rakai and Ara’s temperaments. Still…it wasn’t exactly normal, was it?

“—things they’re working on right now in the lab’s a way to switch off the Replicator attack code,” Ronon was saying.

Brady looked at McKay, who looked just as shocked as Sheppard and Teyla.

“Is such a thing even possible?” Teyla asked him.

“The code’s been deactivated once before,” he said. “I mean, who knows? It could have been the Wraith who did it the first time.”

“We can’t let it happen,” Ronon insisted.

“No,” Teyla said. “If the war with the Replicators ends then the Wraith will once again be able to direct their attention to the rest of the galaxy.”

“And I’ve got a pretty good idea where they’d start,” Brady added pointedly, looking at Sheppard.

“So…are you in?” Tyre asked.

Sheppard sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re in.”

\--

Teyla, McKay, and Brady went back to Atlantis to fill Sam in on the current situation and prepare for the mission. Ronon and Sheppard stayed behind to work out the details with Tyre.

Brady prepped and loaded so that she’d be ready to head out as soon as Sheppard gave the order. She then went to the mess hall and sat down across from Rodney, who was stress eating, as was his habit.

“You ok?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Of course not. Everything about this mission has ‘crazy’ stamped on it, but Sheppard would rather listen to these…cowboys than me.”

“If the Wraith develop a way to shut down the Replicators—“

“If they do. Keyword there: _if_. And that’s a big, _big_ if,” Rodney interrupted.

“We don’t really have much of a choice, Rodney,” Brady said.

“I know that,” he said miserably. “But it’s fun to pretend.”

Brady smiled and took a drink of her juice.

“So Ronon’s really leaving, huh?” Rodney asked, eating a tater tot. “I tell you, it just won’t be the same…without…you didn’t know he was leaving?” McKay asked her as he caught sight of her expression.

“No,” Brady said. “I mean, yeah, I knew he was thinking about it. I…I didn’t know he’d made a final decision.”

“Hm,” McKay grunted noncommittally. “I figured you would have been the first to know,” he said. “And, and maybe he’s not. I mean, sure, he’s packing, but he may just be…cleaning his quarters.”

“Um…maybe,” Brady said. “I’m gonna go—“

“Yes, of course,” McKay said, waving her away. “Oh, boy,” he muttered as he watched her leave.

Brady went down the corridor to Ronon’s quarters. She knocked on the doorjamb and smiled at him when he glanced up from a box he was packing.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Since when do you ask?”

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, surveying her surroundings with a blank expression. Items were in disarray and strewn haphazardly across the bed and other furniture. His clothes were piled high on a desk and his cache of weapons was neatly stacked next to a couple of boxes that were waiting to be filled.

“So...you decided to leave then?” Brady asked. She picked up a couple of his books and passed them to him. He took them from her and tucked them into the box.

“Uh...yeah. I was gonna talk to you later. After the op, I mean,” he said. “If I go with Tyre and the others, I can keep up assault on the Wraith and keep an eye on them. They need me, Brady. With any luck, we can run missions with Atlantis on a semi-regular basis.”

“Oh, so we could still hookup on holiday weekends. Awesome.”

“This has nothing to do with us,” Ronon said on a sigh.

“No, it kinda does,” she replied. “Look, I didn't come here for the it's-me-or-them speech. I just came...hell, I don't know why I came.”

“We've got a lot to do before we meet with Tyre and the others,” he said.

“I don't want anything to happen to you, Ronon.”

“Nothing's going to happen to me,” he said.

Brady crossed her arms. “I have a bad feeling. Something isn't right.”

Ronon smiled and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He placed a kiss on her lips. Brady splayed her fingers on either side of his face, holding him to her as she kissed him back.

“It'll all be fine,” he said, moving back to his box. “Tyre and Rakai and Ara, we've been in battle together more times than I can count.”

“_On_ Sateda. Or _for_ Sateda. This is the first time you'll have fought with them since it was destroyed.”

“It doesn't matter.”

Brady kicked the end of his bed with the toe of her boot. “Stop being so damn thickheaded about this!” she demanded.

Ronon felt his temper spiking. “I sure as hell don't need some office rat ordering me around. I can run my team just fine. I know what I'm doing.”

Brady sighed, running a hand through her hair and lowering her voice. “Just...promise me that you'll watch your back. Please.”

“I don't need anybody looking out for me.”

“Apparently you do,” Brady said evenly. “You're impulsive in battle, sometimes to the point of recklessness. And let's not even get started on the number of times one of us has had to keep you from diving headlong into a fight that would have ended with your death. So don't tell me you got this and you don't need anybody, 'cause I know differently.”

Ronon opened his mouth to speak, but his doorbell chimed, interrupting whatever he had been about to say. He crossed the room to his door, swiping a hand across the panel on the wall.

Sam took in the scene before her and realized she had interrupted at a crucial time. She smiled apologetically. “I can come back,” she said with a nod.

Ronon waved his hand. “Come on in. What we were talking about can wait,” he said, glancing at Brady.

“I have to go find Sheppard anyway,” Brady said. She offered Sam a polite smile as she passed, leaving the room. She stopped on the other side of Ronon's door, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes as she warred with her emotions. She heard Sam and Ronon talking beyond the door.

“You know,” Sam said. “The fact that you brought all this stuff here tells me that you considered Atlantis home. That you were happy here.”

“I was,” Ronon said. “I am,” he corrected.

“Your friends are worried about you,” she said.

Ronon sighed. “Well, they shouldn't be,” he said, raising his voice slightly as if he knew Brady was still outside. “I can take care of myself.”

“Hardheaded son of a...” Brady shoved away from the wall and walked away from Ronon's quarters.

She stormed down the hall to the cafeteria, snatching up a bottle of juice and slinging a chair away from a table. She slouched into it and glowered at the label on her juice.

“So...what's going on in that impressively large brain of yours?”

Brady sighed and looked at Sheppard with a small smile. “Nothin',” she said. “Girl stuff. Shep, how do you feel about this op?”

Sheppard sat across from her and leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Ronon believes in it. I guess that’s enough,” he said finally.

“But Tyre and—“

“They aren’t the ones I trust,” Sheppard interrupted, leaning forward. “Ronon has faith in this mission. Whether that faith is misplaced remains to be seen,” he added with a shrug, sitting back again.

Teyla appeared to Brady’s left and took a seat at the end of the table. “May I join you?” she asked.

“Sure,” Brady said. “We were just discussing the mission.”

“Discussing our thoughts on the mission,” Sheppard corrected. He crossed his arms and leaned his chair back on its legs, rocking back and forth. “What’s your take on it?” he asked Teyla. “You’ve been pretty close-lipped about the whole thing.”

Teyla sighed. “At times like this, you have to keep close to the ones you trust. The fact that Ronon has asked us to go on this mission tells me that he does not fully trust Tyre and the others, regardless of what he says.”

“He’s leaving Atlantis for them,” Brady reminded her. “You’re telling me you think he’d make that decision for someone he doesn’t even trust?”

“I believe his desire to trust them outweighs whatever apprehension he feels,” Teyla explained. “John, can you give us a moment?” she asked, looking at Sheppard.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, standing. “I gotta go make my final checks before we head out. Be in the gateroom in thirty.”

Teyla nodded and Sheppard left.

“Brady,” Teyla said, taking Brady’s hand in hers. “I know that Ronon’s decision to leave affects you differently than it does the rest of us, but you must try to look at the situation from his point of view. Suppose Dr. Jackson called you tomorrow and asked for you to come back to Earth. He is like your family, is he not?”

Brady nodded. “I see your point, Teyla,” she said resignedly. “It’s not an easy choice to make. I get that. But what I don’t understand is why Ronon feels like he has to jump in with both feet.”

Teyla smiled, sitting back in her chair. “Has he ever done differently, with anything?”

“I guess that’s a good point,” Brady muttered.

\--

The Jumper was cramped. Everyone was crowded into the cockpit, so Brady chose to stretch out on the empty bench in the back.

“Put us down near the south end,” Tyre said to Sheppard. “We’ll meet less resistance if we access this place through the back.”

“When will villains learn to guard the back door of their secret lairs?” Brady asked. “Everybody knows if they wanna sneak in, they should go through the back.”

She heard someone move in the doorway and opened one eye, returning Rakai’s frown. He turned around, dismissing her. Brady flipped him off and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Our target is located somewhere on the second level.”

“Uh, maybe you could be a little more specific?” Rodney asked pointedly.

“We don’t have an exact floor plan, if that’s what you’re asking,” Tyre said. “The whole second level is a high security sector.”

Brady rolled off the bench and stood, squeezing into the doorway. “What?”

“If you are unsure, would it not be counterproductive for us to follow you?” Teyla asked.

“It’s better this way,” Rakai said heatedly. “These Wraith facilities are very confusing. We know what we’re looking for.”

“Oh, and we don’t?” McKay asked, offended. “This isn’t exactly our first op, you know.”

“We’ve infiltrated Wraith labs before,” Brady said.

“Really? Well how many Wraith have you killed in hand-to-hand combat?” Rakai asked.

“I hardly think that’s what this is about,” McKay said indignantly, glancing at Brady.

“That’s what I thought,” Rakai said. He sneered at Brady. “Go back to your books, little librarian. Take your scientist with you.”

Rodney turned around, flushed and angry. “You know, we’ve taken out entire hive ships, ok? Compared to us you are amateurs.”

Rakai growled and took a threatening step toward Rodney, but Brady stepped in front of him, pinning the large Satedan with a look of defiance that dared him to make a move. Ronon grabbed the back of Rakai’s shirt and hauled him back.

“Easy,” Ronon said, patting the other man on the shoulder.

“If we can’t play nice together,” Sheppard said, glancing over his shoulder at the tense crew. “Then let’s not. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover and a short amount of time, so we will follow your lead, then we’ll split up into two teams once we reach the second level. Are you cool with that?” he asked Tyre.

Tyre caught Ronon’s nod. “Yes,” he said.

“Approaching target location,” Sheppard said, bringing the Jumper in for a landing. He opened the bay doors and the crew filed out.

“And away we go,” Brady said, locking her P90 and falling into step beside McKay.

\--

“I can never get comfortable in Wraith facilities,” McKay whispered. “I think it’s all the web. It reminds me of my Aunt Margaret’s house at Halloween.”

“She decorated with cotton webs and fake spiders?” Brady guessed.

“No,” McKay said. “She never cleaned corners. The only time we visited was to trick-or-treat at Halloween, and every year I’d get attacked by some vicious, giant spider.”

“Wow. That explains a lot, Rodney.”

McKay nodded.

“Quiet,” Ara hissed from in front of them.

A Wraith guard appeared in front of them and Ronon blasted it. Two more guards ran toward them. Brady pulled a knife from her vest and threw it, the blade landing solidly in the neck of one of the guards. Ronon and Tyre shot at the other, dropping him as well.

Tyre glanced at Brady and gave a short nod. He walked to a closed section in the wall.

“This is it,” he said. He began typing on the access panel.

“Hurry up!” McKay said.

“I got it,” Ronon said, pointing his pistol at the panel. Tyre moved aside and Ronon blasted it.

“Everybody in,” Tyre said.

“At least they aren’t playing Robert Goulet muzak,” Brady said as the teams crammed into the small transport chamber.

“What’s wrong with Robert Goulet?” McKay asked.

Tyre activated the transporter and they rematerialized in another part of the facility. Their appearance drew the attention of a small contingent of guards, but the teams opened fire, cutting them down in a matter of seconds.

“We’ll go this way, you go that way,” Tyre said.

“Contact us if you find anything,” Sheppard said to Ronon.

“Yeah,” he said as Tyre, Rakai, and Ara began walking away. He hesitated, looking at the Atlantis team. “Good luck,” he said.

Sheppard nodded before he, Teyla, and McKay started walking. Brady lingered behind.

“Be careful,” she said quietly.

Ronon nodded. “You too,” he said.

Brady followed after Sheppard’s team, leaving Ronon standing alone.

“Do we have any idea where we’re going?” McKay asked.

“Sure we do,” Sheppard said. “We’re going this way.” He pointed the direction they were walking.

“Oh. Helpful,” McKay muttered.

“I hate this part,” Brady said, eyeing the cocoon chambers that lined the wall of the corridor they had just turned down.

“Test subjects?” Sheppard asked.

“Maybe a vending machine?” McKay said. Brady thumped him on the shoulder. “Ow! What?”

“I hate to be the guy to say it,” Sheppard said, “but we can’t really help these people. We’ve gotta keep moving.”

“There’s nothing we can do?” Brady asked.

“There’s no time,” Sheppard said.

“I know,” Brady said as the team reluctantly left the corridor. “It doesn’t make it any easier though.”

They continued onward, not encountering any Wraith resistance at all.

“What’s on your mind, Shep,” Brady asked, noting the change in Sheppard’s expression every time he looked at the life signs scanner.

“This thing’s been way too quiet and way too easy,” he said, shaking his head.

“I kinda like quiet and easy,” McKay said. “It makes for a nice change.”

“I, too, am unsettled by the ease of this mission,” Teyla said. “Something is not right.”

“Wraith!” John called, ducking behind a corner as guards flooded into their corridor.

The team began exchanging fire with the guards. Brady saw Teyla take a stunner blast and crumple to the floor.

“Sheppard!” she called, laying down cover fire with Rodney as Sheppard rushed to Teyla’s side and dragged her unconscious body around the corner. “Go!” she shouted to Rodney, who had pointed to a closed door up the corridor.

As Brady and Sheppard laid down suppressive fire, McKay struggled with the door’s panel.

“Come on!”

“Rodney, get that door open!” Sheppard called.

“We got more Wraith coming from our 10!” Brady shouted to Sheppard as more guards trooped in from an adjoining hallway.

“I got it!” Rodney called.

Brady turned in time to see Sheppard get hit with a stunner blast. She ran toward McKay, waving him on. “Go, Rodney. Go, go, go!”

She saw Rodney reluctantly turn and duck into the doorway, seconds before she was surrounded by blue-white light.

\--

Brady’s vision wavered as she opened her eyes. Her hearing was muffled and there was a roaring in her head that nearly drowned out Teyla’s voice, but she closed her eyes and waited for her head to clear, thankful that she wasn’t a Wraith snack.

She heard Sheppard groan. Turning her head slowly, she saw him sit up. She followed suit, carefully pushing herself into a sitting position.

“Ugh,” she grunted. She closed her eyes again as the room started to spin. “Well, we’re alive,” she croaked. “That’s good, right?”

“The fact that Ronon and his buddies aren’t here is a good sign,” Sheppard said.

“Not really.”

Brady looked at McKay, who dragged himself into a sitting position with a grunt and whimper. “I thought you made it out of the corridor,” she said.

“I did.”

“Then how—“

“Ronon’s buddies are the reason we’re here,” McKay said. “They set us up.”

“What?” Brady asked.

“What are you talking about?” Sheppard demanded.

“I ran into them while I was trying to esc—while I was affecting a strategic retreat. They stunned me.”

“Are you sure?” Sheppard asked.

“It’s pretty hard to misinterpret something like that,” McKay insisted.

“Was Ronon with them?” Teyla asked.

McKay shook his head. “I didn’t see him.”

“Sheppard, if they set us up, then that means Ronon might be—“

“Let’s deal with what we know before we start dealing in what might be,” Sheppard said, interrupting Brady.

Their conversation ended as a Wraith commander and two guards approached their holding cell. Sheppard, Brady, and McKay pushed themselves to their feet, tensing for battle.

“That one,” the commander said, pointing at Rodney.

“Hold on here, guys,” Sheppard began. One of the guards blasted him with a stunner and he fell to the floor.

“Hey!” Brady said. The guard lifted his blaster again and she stopped, raising her hands. Teyla grabbed the back of her jacket and held her still as the guards snatched Rodney from the cell.

“McKay!” Brady shouted, stretching through the bars as the doors closed.

“Stay strong, Rodney!” Teyla called.

“I’ll try,” Rodney said softly.

\--

Brady wasn’t sure how much time passed before Sheppard woke up again. The Wraith had not returned Rodney to the cell, which was bad. But neither had they come for another person, which meant Rodney might still be alive.

Which could be good or bad, depending on the circumstance.

“Hey,” Brady called, throwing a pebble at the guard outside their cell. “Hey, you. Ivan. So far this place sucks. What do you guys do for fun around here?”

“Brady, don’t aggravate the homicidal aliens,” Sheppard said without conviction.

She sat back with a sigh and began picking at her fingernails. After a moment, she sighed again and stood up. She eyed the guard and made an impolite gesture before turning her back and leaning against the bars. She flinched, startled, as gunfire exploded in the corridor. She turned back to see the guard go down.

Brady’s face split with a wide grin as Sam and her team came into view and rushed to the cell door.

“You alright?” Sam asked.

“Well it’s about time!” Sheppard said as he and Teyla came to stand by the door. “Any longer and we would have had to save ourselves.”

“Did Ronon manage to make it back to Atlantis?” Teyla asked.

“He did,” Sam said.

Brady released a breath and accepted a weapon that one of the Marine’s handed her.

“We split up to cover more ground,” Sam said.

They filed from the cell and followed Sam down the corridor, picking off guards as they happened upon them. They encountered a patrol and took them down, dropping the lingerer who guarded the door to the lab where McKay was being held.

“All clear,” Sheppard said as he, Teyla, Sam, and Brady rushed in.

“All clear?!” Rodney demanded, coming out from behind the console. “You could have shot me!”

“Uh, what is that thing doing?” Brady asked, pointing. “McKay, tell me that’s not a Replicator.”

“Um...”

The Replicator began seizing and fell to the floor, landing on its feet. He stood and looked around before starting toward them. The team opened fire, but their bullets had no effect. The Replicator walked past them and left the room.

“Well then,” Brady said, confused.

Sheppard reloaded his weapon and watched the Replicator as it pulverized two Wraith guards. “Let’s go find Ronon,” he said, leading the team down the corridor.

They ran down the corridors, slowing as they came across a room of dead Wraith guards.

“Wow,” Brady said as she surveyed the scene.

“Obviously Rodney’s pal has been having a good time,” Sheppard said.

“Ok, you cannot blame me for the Replicator issue,” McKay said. He caught glimpse of something in the shadows and raised his gun. Sheppard, on alert, immediately did the same.

“Ronon,” Brady said, lowering her weapon. She took a step toward him, concern shining brightly in her eyes as she took in his wounds.

“Ronon, where are your friends?” Sam asked, wondering about the other Satedans.

Ronon looked at Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, before his gaze settled on Brady. “They’re right here,” he said to Sam. “Let’s go home.”

\--

Back on Atlantis, the team showered in the medical bay and had to deal with Dr. Keller hovering over them, administering aid. McKay relished the attention and managed to finagle his way into an overnight stay. As the young doctor stepped up to examine Ronon’s lacerations, he pinned her with a stare that had her skipping his bed and moving on to Brady’s.

“Don’t mind him, doc,” Brady said as Keller checked her vitals. “He’s got a thing about infirmaries.”

“Well, as near as I can tell, you guys are all fine, aside from a few bumps and bruises. And Rodney’s ‘psychological trauma’,” she added when McKay cleared his throat. “You’re all free to go.”

Ronon shoved away from the bed and briskly left the infirmary. The door to his quarters had just closed when the bell chimed. He sighed and waved the door open again.

Brady held up a package of miscellaneous medical supplies and a bottle of alcohol. “You didn’t really think you were getting off that easy, did you?” she asked lightly.

Ronon reached out and snatched her wrist, hauling her to him and waving his other hand over the door panel at the same time. His arms came around her in a crushing hug.

“Hey,” Brady said quietly, leaning her cheek against his chest and bringing her arms around his waist. “Hey now.” She leaned back and looked up at him, reaching up and gently brushing her fingertips across his bruised cheek. “Come on,” she said after a moment. “Let’s get you patched up.”

He allowed her to lead him to a chair and usher him into it. He had yet to say anything to her, but as she stood between his knees dabbing his bleeding face with astringent, he laid one hand on the side of her leg, desperate for connection.

Brady wiped the blood from Ronon’s face and arms, cleaning the smaller cuts. “Stand up,” she said, surprised that he did so without argument. She unbuttoned his vest and pushed it aside so that she could examine the slice on his side.

“Oh, Ronon,” she whispered, gingerly cleaning the angry wound. “You should have had Jennifer tend to this. It could probably do with a few stitches. It must hurt,” she said, looking into his eyes. When he remained silent, she applied a few butterfly bandages and covered it with gauze. “I’ll just...I’ll leave you to yourself,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to make sure you dealt with your wounds.”

She turned to go and Ronon said her name softly. She turned to look back at him.

“Stay,” he said.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed with relief, crossing the room and hugging him. “I’m so sorry. About the others, I mean.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as she stroked his back. They stayed in their embrace for a long moment before Ronon sat on the bed and lay back, pulling Brady down beside him. His arms closed around her again and he pulled her to him, holding tightly.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest. She felt him shake his head and she nodded, lightly stroking his skin in a soothing gesture. They lay like that—still, without speaking—until the suns had set on Atlantis. Brady's stomach rumbled, breaking the silence. Ronon chuckled.

“Hungry?” he asked, smiling down at her.

Brady raised her head and returned his smile, glad that he was coming back to himself. She blushed as her stomach growled again.

“Maybe. Yeah,” she said.

He lifted his arms and she rolled away, standing up and stretching as he pushed himself into a sitting position. She looked at him and lightly touched his cheek. “How do you feel?”

“I'll live,” he said. “I've had worse.” He stood up carefully and moved to the desk in the corner, removing things from a large box. “Why don't you go get something to eat? I'm sure they've still got food in the cafeteria.”

“Ok,” she said, shelving a book that he passed her. “Do you want anything?”

“I'll meet you down there,” he said. He bent and gave her a kiss, lingering for a moment before smiling down at her. “Go while you can,” he said lightly, winking at her.

“Don't be long,” Brady said. She opened the door and stepped through, passing Teyla as she rounded the corner. “Is that Ronon’s painting?” she asked curiously as her friend lugged a large frame in front of her.

“Yes,” Teyla said. “Rodney was a bit apprehensive of bringing it back to Ronon himself, since he did not ask for it.”

Brady smiled and nodded.

“How is he?” Teyla asked.

“He’s...Ronon,” Brady replied with a small shrug. “Pretending nothing is out of the ordinary. He’ll deal with it on his own like the stubborn warrior he is,” she added, smiling affectionately. “But he’ll be ok.”

“He has all of us,” Teyla said. “He’ll heal soon enough. I didn’t mean to keep you. Would he mind if I...?”

“No, no,” Brady said, waving her on. “Go ahead. He’s unpacking. Tell him if he doesn’t hurry up I’m gonna eat his tater tots,” she said with a grin.

“I will tell him,” Teyla said, disappearing into Ronon’s quarters.


	14. Midway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode alert! Dialogue from the show was not written by me.

**MIDWAY** Feb 15, 2008

Brady dabbed at the sweat that was rolling down her face. She was glad to have helped organize the fight training session for the new group of Marines, but she was even more glad that she’d kicked some serious butt. She’d won her first two matches and called a draw with the third, but since he was nearly as tall as Ronon and had about a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle on her, she still considered it a win. She couldn’t wait to call and tell Jack when she reported in for her next briefing at SGC.

She shook hands with a passing soldier and took a slug from her bottle of water before turning back toward the practice ring. She winced as Ronon’s opponent hit the mat.

Hard.

He had won the past three matches and based on the way the marine was dragging himself back to his feet, it looked like he might be winning his fourth. Ronon smiled at his opponent…and Brady felt sympathy. She’d seen that smile before. It was usually followed by some sort of acrobatic jumping punch thing that—

“Yikes,” she muttered as the soldier hit the mat again. This time, he rolled onto his back and shook his head, tapping the mat.

“Done?” Ronon asked.

“Done,” the man panted.

Ronon offered him his hand and hauled him to his feet, pounding him on the back in camaraderie before taking position for the next trainee. Brady looked over as the door to the gym opened and Sam stepped in. Her face split into a huge smile and she hurried through the door, throwing herself into Teal’c’s embrace. She squealed happily and bounced from side to side as she squeezed her old friend.

“I’ve missed you! Omigosh, I haven’t seen you in ages! How’ve you been?”

“I have been well, little one. It has been far too long since last I saw you, but Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson have kept me informed.”

“It’s so good to see you. When I first heard about these stupid interviews the IOA are conducting, I immediately started stressing about Ronon.”

“Yes, Colonel Carter mentioned that this Ronon Dex was a particularly close friend of yours.”

“Yeah, he is. I will warn you though: he can be a bit…difficult at times.”

Teal’c bowed his head in acknowledgment and stepped into the gym in time to see Ronon flip his latest opponent to the mat.

“Is that him?”

Sam’s face mirrored Brady’s grimace as Ronon won yet another match. “Yeah, that’s him,” she said. “Come on.”

“Ronon, look,” Brady said happily as Sam led Teal’c over to him. “He’s here!”

“Ronon Dex,” Sam said, making introductions, “I’d like you to meet Teal’c of the Jaffa. He’s the one I was telling you about.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ronon Dex. Colonel Carter and Brady Thatcher have spoken highly of you.”

Ronon looked unimpressed and took a drink from his water bottle. Brady arched a brow at him.

“Teal’c was my first alien encounter,” she said, trying to fill the awkward silence as the two men stared at each other. “He, uh…he worked at SGC for like, ten years, so he’s really familiar with the IOA.”

Sam and Brady exchanged a look and Sam’s forced smile slipped away. “Anyway, like I said, you two are similar in many ways, so you should have a lot in common.”

Ronon took another drink and spit water onto the mat. Brady wrinkled her nose. “Seriously? Ew.” The two men went back to staring at each other and she sighed.

“Right,” Sam said. “I thought Teal’c could pass along a few pointers—help you prep for the big interview.”

Silence.

“Oh, yeah, I can tell this is gonna be fun,” Brady muttered.

“Perhaps you could leave us to become better acquainted,” Teal’c said, not looking away from Ronon.

“Sure,” Sam said, looking a bit concerned. “Have fun.”

Brady slapped Ronon on the back much the same way he had slapped the marine. “Yeah, have fun,” she repeated, before turning and following Sam from the gym.

\--

Ronon slapped his tray onto the table and sat down next to Brady. “This sucks.”

She looked at his lunch. “I thought you liked Salisbury steak?”

“Not the food, the company,” Ronon said, popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“Wow,” she drawled. “You’re a charmer.”

The corner of Ronon’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile and he leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Not _present_ company.”

Brady returned his kiss and smiled apologetically. “Ronon, I know you aren’t a big fan of outside help, but Teal’c—“

“I’m not even remotely interested in that guy’s help,” he said. He glanced up and saw Teal’c heading toward their table. He gave a grunt of annoyance.

Teal’c bowed his head to greet Brady and sat down his tray. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” Brady said, indicating the seat across from Ronon.

“Salisbury steak. We are often served this in the SGC Mess Hall. I must confess, however, that I am partial to the tater tots.”

Brady smiled and started to speak, but Ronon cut her off.

“Look, I don’t need a coach to teach me how to act during the interview. I’ve dealt with the IOA before.”

“The IOA is comprised of more than just Mr. Woolsey. Their new member, Mr. Coolidge, is far less pleasant.”

Brady watched the tense exchange with a resigned sigh, shoveling in a forkful of mashed potatoes.

“Yeah, well,” Ronon was saying. “I can handle him. I’ll stay calm, answer all of his questions. I know how to play the game.” He sat back and looked at Brady, who arched a brow at him.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Teal’c said. “Very well. Let us speak of other things.”

“But—“

“Tell me of Sateda,” Teal’c said, interrupting Brady. Her eyes narrowed but he ignored her.

Ronon tensed almost imperceptibly, but Brady noticed. “What do you want to know?”

“When did the Wraith destroy it?”

“Years ago.”

“Your army was unable to fight?”

“Teal’c…” Brady said warningly.

“Oh, we fought back. The battle lasted days,” Ronon answered, his voice harsh.

“And when you finally surrendered, what did the Wraith do then?”

“Cut it out, Teal’c.”

Ronon flushed with anger. “We didn’t surrender. We fought until every last one of us was either dead or captured.”

“So, tell me then: is it true that negligence on your part is what first alerted the Wraith to your presence? That your reckless actions brought about the deaths of thousands of innocent people—“

“That’s enough!” Brady snapped. Ronon leapt to his feet, furious, and swept his tray off the table, pulling his blaster in one fluid motion. “Ronon!”

“That’s a lie,” Ronon snarled.

Teal’c stared up at him calmly, ignoring the blaster pointed at his face, and bit into a piece of fruit. “Indeed it is.”

“Ronon, put the gun down,” Brady said, slapping the table. She turned her attention to her friend. “What the hell, Teal’c?”

“Should such a question arise during his interview, I trust he will not respond in a similar manner,” he said. He looked at Ronon. “You do, after all, know how to play the game.”

The doors opened and Brady looked up at Sheppard with an expression that was a combination of helplessness and annoyance.

“Ronon!” Sheppard shouted. “Put…the gun…away.”

Brady crossed her arms as Ronon holstered his blaster.

“What’s the problem here?” Sheppard asked.

“There is no problem, Colonel Sheppard,” Teal’c replied.

“Except for the fact that they’re one step away from whipping them out and grabbing a measuring tape,” Brady muttered. Sheppard cut her a look, but her glare was directed at Ronon. He leaned down and stared into Teal’c’s eyes.

“Alright,” Sheppard said. “Why don’t you take Teal’c down to the gym? Show him your fighting techniques. I’m sure you could give each other a few tips.” He glanced at Brady, who looked at him incredulously.

“A few tips at what?” she asked quietly. “Beating each other’s faces loose?”

\--

Brady passed Chuck a twenty-dollar bill and grimaced as Teal’c’s kendo stick connected with Ronon’s stomach. The crowd of spectators roared.

“On Ronon?” Chuck asked, holding up her bet.

She leaned close and lowered her voice so that only Chuck could hear her. “On Teal’c.” She smiled at Chuck, who looked surprised, and gave him a little wink, touching a finger to her lips. “Keep it on the DL.”

“Sure thing,” Chuck said. He moved along, gathering bets from other crew members.

“What’s going…“ Sam let her sentence die as she pushed into gym.

“Ah, crap,” Brady muttered. “Sam, over here!” she called, waving. The commander looked annoyed.

“Where’s Sheppard?”

“Over here.” Brady pushed through the throng of people. “Shep!”

Sheppard looked over and Brady jerked her chin, indicating Sam. “Ah, crap,” he muttered. He forced a smile as Sam stepped up to him. “Colonel. Wanna place a bet?”

“What’s going on here?”

“Just a friendly sparring match,” Sheppard said, bobbing and weaving as he turned his attention back to the fight.

“It looks anything but friendly!” Sam said disapprovingly.

“Friendly might be an overstatement,” Brady admitted.

“Oh, no. It’s good for ‘em,” Sheppard insisted. “They’re just blowing off some steam.”

“How long have they been at it?” Sam asked, looking at Brady.

“Um...hard to say, really…” she said with a shrug. Sam looked at Sheppard.

“About an hour or so.”

“An _hour_?!”

“Yeah!” Brady shouted, fist-pumping and clapping as Teal’c landed a quick, sharp blow to Ronon’s arm and knocked his stick out of his grasp. She caught the curious glances of the men around her and gave a delicate shrug. Sam pushed past her and strode out into the practice ring. “What—wait—“ She looked at Sheppard. “Where is she going?”

“To break it up,” Sheppard said with a sigh. He grimaced as Ronon did a leap and smashed Teal’c’s weapon in half.

“Ok, that’s enough!” Sam shouted. Teal’c looked at her and threw his broken stick to the floor.

“Aw, man,” Brady groaned. The rest of the crowd shared her sentiments.

“You’re awfully bloodthirsty today,” Sheppard commented.

“When the person you’re slee—um, _dating_—acts like a moron and scorns help that they seriously need, it’s totally ok to cheer if somebody slaps ‘em around a little bit.”

“Wow. That’s pretty vicious,” he said.

“Hell hath no fury…”

The fight went from sticks to fists and the two of them turned their attention back to the floor. Sam had backed out of the way when the two men clashed again, but a few moments later she seized the opportunity to step between them.

“Ronon, Teal’c! Stop!” She put her hand out to stop Ronon as he started toward Teal’c again. “Let’s call it a draw.”

Sheppard sighed and snatched a handful of money from Chuck, counting out his share and giving the rest back. Brady watched as Ronon stormed off, exiting the room through the secondary door.

“I suppose it is my duty to go soothe him and try to convince him to stop being an ass,” she sighed.

“Well, you _are_ sleedating him,” Sheppard said with a grin.

Brady took her money from Chuck and left the gym to follow Ronon. She found him in their room, pacing like an angry lion. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door.

“How’s the face?”

“I don’t need you to coddle me,” he snapped.

“Good, ‘cause I’m definitely not in the mood to,” she said dryly, pushing away from the doorjamb. She crossed the room and caught his arm, gently tugging him to a stop before reaching up to cup his cheek and examine his face. “No stitches this time,” she commented.

He jerked his face out of her palm. “I said I—“

“I heard you. And I’m not coddling you,” she said. She pointed to the bed. “Sit.”

Ronon hissed in frustration, but plopped down on the side of the bed. “Happy?”

“Blissful,” Brady deadpanned. She turned and rummaged through a drawer for a first aid kit. “Have you ever noticed it seems like I am always patching you up? Maybe I should switch jobs with one of the nurses in the Med Bay.” She looked at Ronon, rolling her eyes at his sulky silence. She pulled out a cotton ball and some witch hazel before taking his chin and tilting his head to the side. She dabbed blood from his chin and lip. “He got you good a few times, huh?”

Ronon sucked in a sharp breath as she poked at his bruised cheek. “He got a lucky shot.”

“Shotsss,” Brady said, accentuating the s. “Plural. I was there.” She rubbed some ointment over a cut on his eyebrow. “So…now that you guys have beat the crap out of each other, do you think you can listen—“

“No.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “God, you are stubborn. Remind me again why I like you?”

Ronon pushed her hands away from his face and reached up, cupping her face and pulling her lips to his. He kissed her hard, ignoring the pain in his busted lip. He tilted his head and coaxed her mouth open, twining his tongue with hers. Brady sighed and kissed him back. When he pulled away, she gave him a cheeky smile.

“Oh, yeah. Now I remember.”

Ronon chuckled and reached up to hold his dreads out of the way while Brady continued her ministrations.

\--

Ronon, Brady, and Sheppard strolled toward the gateroom, following after Sam and Teal’c. Brady adjusted her small duffle bag and sang to herself, something from one of the CDs her sister had sent in the last care package. “I’m in the business of misery, something-something from the top. Something-something-something hourglass that’s ticking like a clock…” Her serenade died as Sheppard looked at her over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. “What? I haven’t had the CD that long,” she defended. “It can’t all be Johnny Cash.”

Sheppard just shook his head and sighed.

“You should try sharing a room with her,” Ronon said quietly.

“No thanks.”

“Why does _he_ have to go with me?” Ronon grumbled, gesturing toward Teal’c.

“He’s not actually going with you,” Sheppard said. “He’s returning home. You just happen to be traveling at the same time. One less dial-in on the Intergalactic Bridge.”

Ronon looked down at Brady with a petulant frown. “And why are you going? It’s not like I need a babysitter.”

“Clearly,” Brady said, reaching up to tweak the bruise on his face.

He pulled away and looked back at Sheppard. “Why don’t we just dial Earth directly from here?”

“We’d need the ZPM for that. We don’t wanna waste the extra power. That was the whole point of the Gate Bridge.”

“But there’s a twenty-four hour quarantine on the Midway Station.”

“Easy, pal. You’re sounding a little whiney,” Brady said, smiling sweetly.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“Smiling faces, children,” Sheppard chided. “Look, you’re just gonna have to sit around a bit, alright? The guy’s got years of experience. He’s like a hundred years old or something, alright? It won’t kill you to listen to him.” He smiled at Brady and patted Ronon on the chest. “There’s a good boy.”

“Hate you,” Ronon muttered.

“See ya, Shep,” Brady said with a laugh as Sheppard walked away. She looked at Ronon and linked her arm with his, crossing the floor toward the gate. “Aw, it’ll be ok, big fella. Think of it as a vacation.” She laughed again when he growled and pulled his arm out of her grasp. “So surly.”

“All set?” Sam asked as they approached.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“That means yes,” Brady said, clearly enjoying Ronon’s futile annoyance. Sam gave the order to dial the gate and said her goodbyes to Teal’c. The wormhole opened and they hugged each other, causing Ronon to roll his eyes. “What?” Brady asked.

“Your people hug too much,” he said.

“Puh-leez. Don’t forget, sweetheart, that I’ve seen you at your cooshiest. Your hardcore warrior thing has no weight with me.” She caught his hand as they stepped up to the wormhole and laced her fingers with his. “Lighten up, ok? We know you know what you’re doing. Keep calm and carry on.”

Ronon tugged her forward and propelled her into the wormhole, following immediately and catching her by the back of her jacket as she stumbled forward through the Midway gate. She whirled to scowl at him, but ended up smiling at the mischievous gleam in his eyes. Teal’c emerged a second later, calm and stoic as ever.

“Who’s working here now, Teal’c? Anybody I know?” Brady asked as they exited the gateroom.

“I spoke only with Dr. Lee on my way to Atlantis,” he said.

“Gentlemen! Oh, and Dr. Thatcher,” Lee said cheerily as he met them in the corridor. “Welcome to the Midway Station, the halfway point between the Pegasus and Milky Way galaxies.”

“Yeah, we know. We’ve been here before,” Ronon said.

“Right, of course. So you also know about the twenty-four hour quarantine before I can let you carry on to Earth.” He swallowed as Teal’c loomed closer. “Don’t wanna pass on any of those pesky Pegasus germs to the folks back home.”

“That mean your people quarantined yourselves before crossing over into Pegasus the first time?” Ronon asked pointedly. Brady nudged him, cutting him a look that told him to behave.

Lee coughed nervously. “Why don’t I just show you to your quarters?”

“Thanks,” Brady said. She squeezed between Ronon and Teal’c, following Dr. Lee.

“Um…unfortunately, you’re gonna have to share. As you know, there’s not much room on the Station. And, um, Dr. Thatcher—“

“You can call me Brady, Bill.”

“Brady,” he said, smiling apologetically. “I’m afraid there aren’t any extra quarters. I’d be glad to give up my room, but I share with Kavanagh and he’s…difficult.”

“Yeah, I know,” Brady said. “If I had to be stuck on this thing with him, I’d flush him out into space.”

Lee smiled and opened the door to a small compartment. “Well, this is it. There’s a DVD player and a few movies. Oh, we saw Norbert the other day—actually, it’s kind of funny.”

Brady cleared her throat. “Ok, well—“

“Oh, and there’s some Sudoku books, although I think…no, they’re all solved.”

“It’s fine, Bill.” Brady said, pressing herself against the wall so Teal’c and Ronon could also enter the room.

“Um, like I said, it’s a bit small, but you’re only here for a day. So, kick back, relax…” He tried to make an escape, but the two hulking bodies who blocked the door made no effort to give him room. He awkwardly squeezed past them. “…have an Earl Grey and get to know each other better.” Ronon and Teal’c stared at him blandly as tension radiated from them. “Or not.” He cast Brady a look of sympathy, then hurried from the room.

Ronon and Teal’c bent down toward the bed at the same time, leaning to set their bags on the bottom bunk. They straightened and glared at each other.

“Ronon Dex, I prefer the lower bed.”

“I don’t care. The bottom’s got more room.”

“Yes, and as I have the greater mass, I should sleep there.”

“Oh, good God,” Brady muttered. She slung her bag onto the top bunk and pulled herself up. “You two can argue over who gets the bottom bunk for the next twenty-three hours and fifty-two minutes if you want. Just do it in the hall. Sleep standing up for all I care. I, on the other hand, am going to lay here and read the last Harry Potter book.” She pinned them both with her best mother-hen glare. “You will not ruin this for me. If you’re gonna bitch at each other, do it out there.” With that, she lay down, opened her book, and began to ignore the two fuming giants standing beside the bed.

\-- “I don’t get it. Why does the fat one keep letting the short one slap him in the face?”

“I believe it makes people laugh.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Indeed.”

Brady smiled as she eavesdropped on the conversation between Teal’c and Ronon, who were watching an old episode of Three Stooges. To be honest, she’d never thought the Stooges were funny either. She kept her eyes closed and snuggled deeper into her pillow, pleased to see that the animosity between Teal’c and Ronon was dying down.

An alarm blared, jolting her from her relaxed state. She sat up and looked at the others, swinging her legs over the side of the bunk when Ronon snatched up his blaster.

“Stay here,” he and Teal’c said in unison.

She snorted. “Do either of you really think that’s gonna happen?” she asked, planting her fists on her hips.

The men looked at each other and sighed, turning to leave without another word.

“What do you think it is?” Brady asked as she hurried to keep up with them.

“Maybe Kavanagh got sucked out through a toilet,” Ronon said, and she smiled.

It faded fast as they opened a door and saw two Wraith standing over the bodies of a couple of Midway personnel. Ronon immediately raised his blaster and shot them.

Brady flinched back, shocked to see Wraith on the station. “Whoa!”

“What are the Wraith doing here?” Ronon demanded.

“I was about to ask the same question,” Teal’c said.

“We need to get to the armory,” Brady said. “Which way?”

“I believe it is this way,” Teal’c said. “Follow me.”

They found the room and Brady began loading them up with weapons. She checked the clip on her automatic and nodded to the others.

“Alright,” Ronon said. “We need to secure the Gateroom.”

Teal’c shook his head. “No, we must get to the Control Room.”

“All the Wraith can get to the gate.”

“They cannot use the Stargate without the Control Room.” He led the way into the hall, continuing. “It is best. If we just keep moving…” He lifted his rifle and shot two Wraith guards that rounded the corner. Ronon and Brady exited the armory and engaged the Wraith at the other end of the hall. “This way,” Teal’c said, shouldering his rifle and leading them to the Control Room.

They hurried toward the Control Room, but Brady kept her ears open for any sounds from the Wraith. They climbed down to a lower level and she stopped on the ladder, listening.

“They’re coming!” she whispered. Ronon plucked her off the ladder and ushered her around the corner after Teal’c. They grimly watched as a contingent of Wraith guards climbed the ladder and disappeared.

“They’re headed to the Gateroom.”

“Indeed.”

“Dude, we’ve got to get to the Control Room and shut down the gate,” Brady said quietly.

“If you wanna go to the Control Room, go ahead,” Ronon said. “I’m going after ‘em.”

“You’re what?!” she hissed as he opened the door and headed out. “Ronon!”

Teal’c swore in his native language and angrily hurried after him, throwing an accusatory glance at Brady.

“Oh, like it’s _my_ fault? _This_ is why I wanted you to talk to him.”

“He does not need someone to talk to,” Teal’c said hotly. “He needs someone to taser him.”

“Indeed,” Brady said as she stared angrily at Ronon’s back.

They reached the viewing panel of the Gateroom and Brady cursed as the gate began to move. “Shame we didn’t go to the Control Room,” she said pointedly.

“They’ve dialed the Milky Way gate,” Teal’c said as the last chevron locked.

“Oh, God. They’re…”

“They’re heading for Stargate Command,” Ronon said.

“We must pursue them,” Teal’c said.

“Now you’re talkin’.” He looked at Brady and smiled.

“I love that the threat of imminent danger and a ridiculously dangerous mission gets you to smile.”

“I’m easy to please,” he said. “Let’s go before the gate closes.”  


“Brady Thatcher, perhaps it would be better if you remained on the Midway station and locked yourself—“

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Teal’c. I’m not some ditchable prom date. I’m gating to SGC, we’re saving my planet, and then I’m taking twenty minutes on Earth to go for a slice of pizza. That’s the plan, that’s what we’re doing.”

“Very well.”

They ran through the gate, guns at the ready, and barely made it through before the SGC gate closed.

“Oh my God,” Brady breathed as she saw the heaps of unconscious bodies. “They’re alive, right?”

“Yeah, they’re alive,” Ronon said as he felt a soldier’s pulse. “They’re just stunned.”

“By this device, perhaps?” Teal’c asked, looking at a strange metallic sphere.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one of those before,” Ronon said.

Brady knelt beside it and examined it. “This alloy is common in Wraith constructions.”

“It appears other personnel have been disabled as well. The question is, how much of the base has been compromised?”

“And where the hell are the Wraith?”

“And how many more of these ball things do they have?” Brady added. “I mean, this one obviously took out the entire facility. For them, it’s like a candy store in here. No one can defend themselves. If the Wraith get out of this base…”

“We aren’t gonna let that happen,” Ronon said.

Brady nodded and lifted her gun. “Come on. I need to get up to that Control Room and see what kind of damage that thing did. We can get eyes on the Wraith from there.”

She led the way up the stairs, stepping over bodies as she entered the Control Room. She sat in Walter’s chair and keyed into the system. Ronon pointed at a monitor.

“They’re working their way to the surface, trying to get out.”

“They will be unable to do so,” Teal’c said, reading over Brady’s shoulder.

“The pulse from the Wraith device triggered the automatic lockdown,” Brady explained. “No one gets in, no one gets out.”

“Just the way I like it,” Ronon said, looking at Teal’c. “How do we get to where this corridor?”

“Come,” Teal’c said. “I will show you.”

“Brady—“

“Go,” she said, not looking up from the computer screen. She reached down and patted her gun. “I’m good. Working out a few kinks here to get back in the system and override the lockdown. If I can do that, I can seal the Wraith—you know what? Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just go.”

“Be careful.”

She did look up then. “Likewise.”

\--

Brady groaned in frustration as she worked at the computer. She was still unable to enter the system. A glance at the security monitors showed that Teal’c and Ronon had split, and whoever the old guy they found in the conference room—apparently a member of the IOA—was somewhere else.

The doors to the Control Room slid open and Brady raised her gun, lurching to her feet instantly. The man raised his hands briefly and then dropped them, obviously not seeing her as a threat.

“_You’re_ the third man?” he asked. Brady didn’t like his tone. “You’re a little girl. How do you people get anything done?”

Brady lowered her gun and eyed him incredulously. “Who the hell are you?”

“Coolidge. I’m Chief Administrator of the IOA, and consequently, your employer. So I’d watch that tone, honey.”

“Ok, I’m not sure if you’re aware, _honey_,” she said acidly. “But we’ve got a situation here. I’m gonna need you to take a seat and let me work.”

“I’m taking care of this situation,” Coolidge said, bending to engage the military’s radio system.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Cleaning up your mess,” he said.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with, Coolidge.”

“I know that it was the Pegasus gate that the Wraith came through. I know that we’ve lost the Midway station as well as Stargate Command.” He radioed the military and waited for an authorized person to get on the line.

“You’re a damn fool.”

“And you’re nothing more than a mascot, Thatcher. A pet. An indulgence. I don’t know how you managed to work your way in here, but if I’d been on the committee when you first broke onto this base, you would have been rotting in jail for the rest of your life, teenager or not.”

A high-ranking general got on the horn and Coolidge briefed him of the situation. Brady frowned as they initiated an operation that she didn’t recognize. She had no doubt, however, that it was not a good thing. She looked up as Ronon entered the room and crossed to him, reaching out and giving his hand a quick squeeze. He brushed a hand over her hair before turning his attention to Coolidge, who watched their display of affection with scorn.

“What are you doing?” Ronon asked.

“I’ve contacted the military. They’re fully aware of the situation which means, unfortunately, that they’re preparing to nuke the base.”

“Are you fu—“

“What?!” Ronon shouted at the same time Brady spoke.

“—ing crazy?! They can’t nuke the base!”

“Stargate Command has been compromised,” Coolidge said. “The only way to fully prevent the Wraith from infiltrating the general population is to destroy it.”

“Or kill the Wraith,” Brady said.

“You tell them to call it off,” Ronon demanded.

“I can’t do that. Not as long as there is a single Wraith alive on this base.”

Walter stirred next to Brady and pushed himself to his feet. “Wraith? What, here?”

“We’re handling it, Walter,” Brady assured him.

“Look, you’ve still got people alive here,” Ronon said, trying to reason with Coolidge. “Buy us some more time!”

Coolidge waved Ronon’s words away and told him about an escape hatch. His flippancy and arrogance had Brady’s fingers curling into fists. “Where’s Teal’c?” he asked.

Several crewmen, now fully revived, searched the video monitors. Walter pointed to one that showed Teal’c pinned down between two groups of Wraith.

“He’s surrounded. I need to get back to him.”

“I’m going with you,” Brady said.

“No,” Coolidge said. “No time. We have to leave as soon as we can.”

“Not without Teal’c,” Ronon said. Brady felt a surge of pride.

“We can’t go back for him. We could get bogged down or killed.” He followed Ronon and Brady to the door. “There’s a clear path to the escape hatch and we need to get out of here _now_!” He grabbed Brady’s arm and pulled her around, giving her a firm shake.

“At this point, I don’t need another reason to lay you out,” she said menacingly. “Let. Me. Go.”

“You wanna run away and save yourself, fine,” Ronon said to Coolidge. “We’re staying here.”

“I am in charge here!” Coolidge shouted. “You will do as I—“

Brady’s fist connected with his face with a resounding whump. She’d missed the cartilage in his nose, hitting him instead right between the eyes. His eyes watered and he released her to cover his nose with his hands.

“Siler, see Mr. Coolidge gets a med kit,” she said, turning on her heel and leading the way out of the Control Room.

\--

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

Brady didn’t spare Ronon a glance as she ticked off corridor signs in her head. “This way.”

She turned a corner and opened fire on a group of Wraith, dropping two before they got a shot off. Ronon cleaned up the other three and continued following Brady. They heard the sound of a fight up ahead and hurried their steps, unloading on a couple more Wraith before engaging in hand-to-hand. Teal’c and Ronon fought with large Wraith guards, holding their own.

Brady grabbed her opponent and scrambled onto his back, locking her knees on his hips and wrapping her arms around his neck. He tried to reach back and pull her off, but she held tight. With a vicious twist, she broke his neck and rode him down as he collapsed to the floor. She leapt to her feet in time to see Ronon grab a section of pipe from the ceiling. He pulled it down, ignoring the hissing steam that came from the break, and began beating the Wraith with it.

Brady snatched up Ronon’s blaster and shot the last two guards who came around the corner, looking up in time to see Ronon’s opponent go down. Brady raised her eyebrows, silently asking if he was ok. Ronon nodded and wiped his mouth. Brady passed over his blaster, but he also held on to his pipe. They rounded the corner in a rush, in time to see Teal’c slammed against the wall. The Wraith he had been fighting slapped a hand against his chest and began feeding. Ronon stepped forward, raised his pipe, and buried it at the base of the Wraith’s skull.

Teal'c slouched against the wall for a second, catching his breath, and wiped blood from his mouth.

“Excellent timing,” he said, nodding to Brady.

“Indeed,” Ronon said with a grin, mimicking Teal'c's voice. He looked around and patted Teal'c on the shoulder. “I think that's all of them.”

“I certainly hope you are correct,” Teal'c said. He placed his hand on Brady's back as he stepped over dead Wraith.

“We've gotta call the military,” Ronon said.

“Oh, crap!” Brady said, her eyes widening. “They're gonna blow this place up.” She looked at Ronon. “You got him?” she asked, pointing at Teal’c.

Ronon nodded and waved her on, while Teal’c scowled and straightened his shoulders. “I do not need to be ‘got’,” he said snippily.

Brady raised her hands in mock-surrender as she backed down the hallway and ran for the Control Room. She burst through the door and pointed at Coolidge.

“Call off the strike! The Wraith are dead. Call it off!”

Coolidge crossed his arms and looked at Brady drolly. “Contrary to your opinion of me, Thatcher, I know how to do my job. I’ve been observing the monitors and I saw the last of the Wraith die. I then called off the strike on the base.”

“Oh,” Brady said. “Well, I’ll admit, that’s surprising.” The look Coolidge gave her was anything but friendly, but Walter smiled at her. She returned his smile before looking back at Coolidge. “Should we, uh, wake up the rest of your colleagues?”

\--

Brady and Teal’c waited outside the conference room while Ronon had his interview. 

“You think they’re gonna order him off the project?” Brady asked. “I mean, he did disobey direct orders. And he’s got the whole Satedan thing working against him. The IOA aren’t exactly happy about the number of aliens on our teams.”

“Not to mention the romantic attachment with you,” Teal’c added. Brady frowned but he held her gaze, giving a small shrug. “It was you who blacked _both_ of Mr. Coolidge’s eyes, was it not?”

Brady bit her lip. “Yeah. Yeah, that was me. Oh, crap. What if they kick him off the team because of me?”

He smiled at her indulgently. “Do not worry. I doubt your impulsive reactions and emotional entanglements are enough to get Ronon thrown off the Pegasus project.”

“Yeah, but I mean, add to that the fact that he’s reckless, has a hair-trigger temper and penchant for shooting people, and doesn’t actually respond well to authority, that’s not exactly the kind of team member they’re looking for.” She slumped back against the wall with a sad sigh. “They’re gonna kick him out.”

The door opened and Ronon came out with a smile on his face. Brady jerked to attention, her hopes raised.

“Well?” Teal’c asked.

“I’m exactly the kind of team member they want out there, fighting the Wraith. Their words, not mine,” Ronon said. He hooked an arm around Brady’s shoulders and looked curiously at her incredulous expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, smiling.

Teal’c smiled as well. “And you did not hold a weapon to their heads?” he asked, drawing Ronon’s attention.

“I did not.”

“I am pleased,” Teal’c admitted as they started to stroll down the corridor.

“Yeah, well. I had a good coach.”

“Whoa. I’m sorry. Can I get that in writing? Or better yet, a recording of it?” Brady teased.

“The Daedalus is preparing to leave. Colonel Caldwell will beam you aboard when you are ready.”

“Still nothing from Midway?” Ronon asked.

Teal’c shook his head. “No. We have lost all contact with them. The Daedalus will stop on its way back to Atlantis to assess the situation.”

“You think they’re ok?” Brady asked.

Teal’c was quiet for a little longer than she would have liked. “Maybe.”

“At least you’re honest,” Ronon said.

\--

Brady and Ronon were playing poker in the mess hall when Caldwell came over their com headsets and announced that the Daedalus was approaching position for the Midway Station.

“Fair warning, Dex: it doesn’t look good.”

They went to the bridge and looked out. Brady gasped and grabbed for Ronon’s hand. The station was gone. Debris floated in space, but the structure had been destroyed.

“Colonel, we’ve got movement on radar.”

Caldwell looked at the young radar operator. “Wraith?”

The man shook his head. “Too small, sir. I’m not sure, but it looks like a Jumper.”

Brady hurried over to the screen and nudged the guy out of the way. “It’s a Jumper! Colonel, it’s a Jumper.”

“I heard you the first time, Thatcher,” Caldwell said. He told his pilot to come about and dock the Jumper. He tried to hail the crew, but no one on board responded.

Brady released Ronon’s hand and rushed to the bay. She and Ronon stood at the end of the ramp, waiting for the override system to open the Jumper door. As the door started to lower, they stepped up into view of the sweaty, tired crew inside. Ronon gave a little wave to them as Brady let out a visible sigh.

“Wh-where are we?” Lee asked.

“Daedalus 302 Bay. We saw you, we scooped you up. We’re heading back to Atlantis.”

“Thank God!” Kavanagh exclaimed.

Ronon and Brady entered the Jumper and Lee smiled at Brady, giving her a quick hug. He and Kavanagh cheerfully patted Ronon’s shoulder. Ronon gave Kavanagh a rough shove and walked over to McKay. Kavanagh turned to Brady and moved like he was going to hug her. She held up her hand.

“Don’t even.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” She crossed the space and stood next to Ronon.

“Midway was destroyed,” McKay said.

“Yeah, we saw. Where’s Sheppard?”

McKay snorted and turned to open the bulkhead door. “He lasted about a day, then sealed himself in there,” he said. Brady leaned around him and laughed. Sheppard was slouched in the pilot’s seat, asleep with his feet up, his ears covered with headphones.

“No wonder he didn’t hear the radio call,” Ronon said, grinning. He reached out and tickled Sheppard’s neck, making him brush at his face in his sleep.

“Be nice,” Brady chuckled.

Ronon tucked his tongue between his teeth and flicked his friend’s nose. Sheppard batted at his face again. “Wake up, sunshine.”

Brady leaned down and got close to Sheppard’s face, leaning in and blowing lightly on his cheek. Sheppard jerked awake, flinching backward as Brady and Ronon laughed.

“_Thank God_!” he said, pulling off his headphones. “I almost shot ‘em myself with a stunner.”

“That’s understandable,” Brady said.

“Where are we?”

“Daedalus 302 Bay.”

“What’s the status of SGC?”

Brady smiled and rolled her eyes. “Relax, Papa Smurf. We took care of the Wraith.”

“I figured you would,” Sheppard said, nodding.

“Come on,” Ronon said, pulling Sheppard from his chair. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, tell him the good news!” Brady said, slipping between Ronon and Sheppard and locking arms with them.

“I passed my interview with the IOA.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They said they like me,” Ronon said.

“Yeah, well. What’s not to like?” Sheppard asked, winking at Brady.


	15. Custody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel on Atlantis. Territorial Ronon. Pissing contest. Exasperated Brady.

**_CUSTODY_** _April 2008_

“What do you mean you still aren’t finished? I gave you that panel three weeks ago! Is this what is considered top notch work where you come from, because where I come from—“

“Look, McKay, I’m doing my best here. It’s—“

“Well obviously your best is not working—“

“—not like there’s a freaking dictionary I can go grab and look up words!”

“Hey! Hey! What is going on here?!” Sheppard demanded as he stepped into Brady’s office.

“Nothing,” Brady said, scowling at McKay.

“Exactly. Nothing,” McKay replied. “Which is the problem. I need that panel from M59-155 in order to finish reconfiguring the—“

“I will give you the panel as soon as I finish translating it, Rodney.” She looked at Sheppard. “I’m almost done. It’s just…there’s a few characters I’ve never seen before.” Brady sighed. “I’ll get it translated. I just need more time. Look,” she said when McKay opened his mouth. “Give me…two more days, McKay. Alright?”

Rodney looked less than pleased. “I suppose I can work on one of my other projects,” he grumbled, turning away.

Brady cursed and sighed, looking at Sheppard as McKay left the room. “I’m totally screwed,” she said. “I’m not a quitter, Shep, but I am totally out of my league with this one. This language is like Ancient, but is just different enough to throw me. I’ve got enough secondary material and completed translation to cross-reference the untranslated section, but I need more time. Or…another brain,” she added with a shrug. Sheppard looked apologetic for a moment before Brady snapped her fingers. “Another brain!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Sheppard asked, following her as she ran from the room. “Where are you going?”

“To find Sam,” Brady called. “I need to make a call.”

\--

“Wormhole established,” Chuck said as the Stargate activated.

“What’s going on?” Ronon asked, stopping on the stairs.

Before Sheppard could answer, a figure stepped through the Gate.

Ronon eyed Daniel Jackson evenly, taking in details. The man’s brown hair was cut shorter than it had been when last he saw him, but otherwise he didn’t seem any different. His small glasses glinted in the backlight of the gate.

Ronon frowned as the man’s young face crinkled into a smile and he held out his arms. Brady ran and embraced him, all but glowing in her excitement.

“What’s Jackson doing here?” Ronon asked.

“Ooh, is that jealousy rearing its ugly head?” Sheppard asked. He struggled to maintain a straight face as Ronon whipped around to glare at him.

“I’m not jealous,” Ronon growled. “Why would I be jealous? Who would I be jealous of? Him?” he asked, pointing at Daniel. He scoffed. “Please.” Without another word, Ronon stalked away and left Sheppard standing on the stairs.

“Oh, well…what could I have been thinking?” Sheppard said to himself, rolling his eyes. He descended the stairs and greeted Dr. Jackson. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

“Well, there was a group coming back from leave, so I figured I’d tag along and help Brady out. She said it was urgent.”

“McKay’s freaking out,” Sheppard said with a look that said ‘what else is new?’

“Ah,” Daniel said knowingly. He slung his pack over his shoulder and adjusted it.

“Come on,” Brady said, picking up Daniel’s other bag. “I’ll show you to your room and then I guess we’ll get started. Or, ya know, finished…hopefully.”

“We’ll get it done, kiddo. Don’t worry,” Daniel said.

\--

“So who does this guy think he is?”

McKay jumped as Ronon slapped his tray on the table and sat down across from him. Rodney followed Ronon’s unfriendly gaze to where Brady and Daniel Jackson sat eating their meal.

“Who? Daniel?” McKay asked. “He’s, uh…Brady’s mentor. Or whatever. She worked with him at the SGC.”

“I know,” Ronon said. “We’ve met.”

“Oh, right. The rescue mission,” Rodney said, getting back to his food.

“So they used to be together?” Ronon asked, glowering at the other table.

“What, like _together_ together? Well, no…they worked together.”

“How long did they work together? I mean…me and Brady, we talk, but not a lot about the past.”

“Well…I mean…I’m probably not the best person to—“

“What, you don’t know?” Ronon asked.

“No, I just…well, I’m terrible with details if it’s something I’m not interested in and I just don’t share your interest in Brady. That’s all. But here’s an idea,” McKay said. “Ask her.”

Ronon frowned at his friend. He tossed his fork back onto his tray and pushed the plate away. “I’m just wondering about this Jackson guy.”

“Daniel’s ok,” Sheppard said, sitting down at the end of the table. He popped a piece of food into his mouth and settled back into his seat. “I mean, he’s a little geeky, maybe, but a good guy.”

“I feel that Dr. Jackson will be very good for Brady,” Teyla said as she sat next to McKay. She laid a hand on her belly and rubbed slow circles. “She has missed her friends on Earth.”

“She just saw Teal’c,” Ronon muttered.

Sheppard and Teyla exchanged a look.

“Yeah, well…according to Brady, they’re just about finished translating that panel, so he shouldn’t be here long,” Sheppard said, eyeing Ronon over the rim of his glass as he took a drink.

Ronon shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

No one mentioned that he looked slightly appeased.

\--

“I think…we are done,” Daniel said, squinting at the computer screen.

“Wait a sec,” Brady said, leaning over him and clicking a few keys on the keyboard. “There. Now we’re done. Gah, thank you Daniel.”

“You would’ve gotten it, you know,” Daniel said. “You’re practically queen of xenoglossy.”

“Yeah well, assuming you believe in the supernatural ability to understand any language,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “chances are it would have taken me a lot longer than…” She checked her watch. “Fifteen hours. And McKay would’ve been back in my face.”

“Yeah, well, fifteen hours sitting in a lab isn’t really a healthy way to work you know,” Daniel said wryly.

“I know,” Brady replied as she backed up her data and monitored the transfer to McKay’s station. “Well, I assure you I’m fine. And—bonus!—I can actually work on something other than this damn panel. Do you know how much stuff has collected over the past three weeks? It won’t take me but a couple of days to catch up, but still.”

Daniel smiled as Brady hugged him.

“Thanks Daniel. Really.”

He gave her a quick squeeze and pulled back just as the door opened. Brady straightened and looked over her shoulder, smiling at Ronon.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Ronon said. He eyed Daniel coldly. “Nevermind.”

“O…k,” Brady said, frowning as he turned back down the hall. She looked at Daniel. “Sorry. He’s not usually so abrupt…well, no, he is. Pretty much always,” she said, grinning apologetically.

\--

“Whoa!” Sheppard said, slamming into Ronon’s shoulder as he rounded the corner by the gym. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Just out for a walk,” Ronon bit out.

“Oh. Want some company?” Sheppard asked.

Ronon gave him a stoic glare, but Sheppard ignored it and continued walking with him.

“You seem to be in a bit of a mood,” he said. “Maybe I can help.”

“Brady and Jackson. She’s in love with him?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Sheppard said, surprised. “Near as I can figure you’re the one—what is going on here?” he asked, changing the subject before he divulged more than he should. “Look, from what I understand Jackson’s more like Brady’s Yoda. Not a lot of romance going on between Luke and Yoda.”

Ronon scowled, less than convinced.

Sheppard sighed. “Look, I’d suggest a good sparring match to cool you down, but I don’t feel like having to go for stitches again. Hey,” he said, grabbing Ronon by the shoulder. “Why are you so worried about Jackson? I mean, you and Brady are pretty serious, right?”

“I guess. Yeah,” Ronon said.

“Look, I have zero relationship skills,” Sheppard admitted, “but I think if you’re happy with the person you’re with, and they’re happy with you, then that means it’s going good. Ah, Teyla!” he called as Teyla passed the end of their corridor. She stuck her head around the corner and approached them when Sheppard waved her forward.

“Yes?”

“You and Kannan, you’re happy, right?”

Teyla arched a brow. “Yes, why?” she asked.

“So you wouldn’t be irrational and jealous—“

“I’m not jealous,” Ronon interjected.

“—if he was spending time with an old friend of his who happened to be a woman. I mean, you wouldn’t go stomping around looking for a reason to beat the crap outta somebody, would you?”

“John, I am seven months pregnant,” Teyla reminded him, touching her stomach. “I couldn’t very well fight right now.”

“In theory,” Sheppard said. “Pretend you aren’t pregnant.”

“Ah. Well, in theory, if I’m not pregnant, then I would scratch her eyes out.”

“See?” Ronon said smugly. “I’m not being irrational.”

“But you _are_ jealous,” Teyla said, patting his arm soothingly. “It is the way it works when it comes to loving someone,” she added, turning and leaving the men standing in the hallway.

Sheppard shifted uncomfortably. “So...uh...”

“I'm going to train,” Ronon grumbled, going into the gym and leaving Sheppard standing in the corridor.

–

Daniel and Brady sat silently on the balcony of the Second Tower, watching the waves crest and crash against the boundaries of the city.

“So,” Daniel said, breaking the silence. “Things between you and Ronon seem to have...blossomed.”

“Um, yeah,” Brady said with a shrug. “We've sort of moved to the next level I guess.” She sat forward and propped her elbows on the balcony ledge. “I dunno, Daniel. I feel different when I'm with him. I don't feel like a nerd or a...a little sister. He makes me feel like...” She shrugged, letting her sentence drop.

Daniel nodded and looked at her knowingly. “Look, you gotta remember that these people haven’t known you since you were a teenager,” he said with a smile. “Just because you weren’t involved with anyone at the SGC doesn’t mean that the members of this expedition see you as anything less than a woman. I’m willing to bet that there are quite a few Marines in there that think you’re...ya know. Hot.”

“Don’t call me hot, Daniel,” Brady said with a wince. “It’s just weird.” He laughed and she returned his grin. Turning her attention back to the waves, she listened to the sound of the ocean as she lost herself in her thoughts.

\--

That evening, the door to Brady’s office opened with a soft whoosh.

“Hey,” Ronon said. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, nodding to the desk where her dinner tray sat.

“No,” Brady said with a smile. “Come in.”

“Where’s your shadow?” he asked curtly, pulling up a chair.

“Getting his food,” she said, setting aside the small disc she had been examining. “What’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal,” Ronon grumbled.

“You most definitely have a deal,” Brady said. “You’ve been in a bad mood for like two days now. What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Ronon said as the door opened again. He frowned as Daniel sat down next to Brady and passed her his pudding cup. She handed him her cake. He felt his lip curl at their cozy familiarity.

“Crap,” Brady muttered suddenly.

“What’s up?” Daniel asked.

“I forgot to take this flower pot to Katie. The people on one of the last off-world missions gave it to her. She thought I’d be interested in the inscription. I’d better go do it while I’m thinking about it.” She looked at Ronon pointedly. “Be nice,” she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows in attempt to look innocent. It didn’t work and Brady looked at him warningly as she left the office.

“So, Jackson,” Ronon said, staring evenly at the man. “How are things in your galaxy?”

“Pretty good. We've been busy since Brady came home last time,” Daniel said. He knew he shouldn't bait the Satedan, but he just couldn't help it.

“We've been busy here too,” Ronon said. “Brady has translated and discovered things that I doubt even you would be able to handle. No offense.”

“I introduced her to alien languages,” Daniel reminded him. “Brawn doesn’t always win battles.”

Ronon leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “So you’re telling me that you’re taking credit for her being so smart?”

Daniel laughed and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “She had a Bachelor's degree at seventeen, so no, I’m not taking any credit for that,” he said with a smile. “Relax, Ronon. I have no claim on Brady.”

“Well, I do,” Ronon said, watching Daniel closely.

“I thought you might when you showed up on Bantinos,” Daniel said, nodding in acknowledgment. “Well, now we know where the other man stands.” He smiled briefly and then sobered. “Brady’s a special kid, Ronon. She means a lot to me.”

“I get that.”

“I’m not sure you do,” Daniel said, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. He leaned forward and held Ronon’s gaze without trepidation. “If you hurt her, you will answer to me.”

“You realize that I am bigger than you,” Ronon said smugly.

Daniel’s smile blossomed, but it was cold and challenging. “It wouldn’t matter,” he said.

Ronon nodded once. “_Now_ we know where the other man stands,” he said.

Daniel couldn’t be sure, but he thought there might have been a touch of admiration in the warrior’s voice. Ronon cocked his head to the side and looked at Brady as she entered He leaned back in his chair and propped his foot on the desk as he got comfortable.

“What?” Brady asked self-consciously, reaching up to fidget with an earring.

“Nothing,” Daniel said with a smile at her as he stood. “I guess I should probably go start packing,” he said. “I’ve got an early dial-out in the morning.”

“Want me to walk you?”

“Nah,” he said, passing her a folder. “I'll see you later tonight.”

“Ok,” she said. Brady narrowed her eyes and pinned Ronon with a accusatory stare, arching an eyebrow. “What did you two talk about while I was gone?”

Ronon feigned ignorance, attempting to look confused.

“You should work on your innocent face,” Brady said with a sigh and a crooked grin as she sat her tray on her desk. She tugged his dreadlocks, playfully pulling his head back and placing a quick kiss on his lips. “You always just look really suspicious.”

Ronon smiled and snaked a potato puff from her tray as she sat down. “I’m the image of innocence.”

She looked at him through her lashes and shook her head with a chuckle. “Yeah. Right.”


	16. Broken Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad episode is sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode alert! Dialogue from the show is not mine.

** _ BROKEN TIES _ **

July 25, 2008

It was a nice day on Atlantis. Brady stripped out of her uniform jacket and spread it on the tiles that floored the Central Tower balcony. She stretched out on the floor, stacking her hands behind her head as she sighed. The sun's rays felt wonderful on her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed the salty ocean air, shutting out all ambient noise, listening to the roar of the waters far below. She lay like that for a long while, until the blare of the loudspeaker jolted her back to consciousness.

“This is Richard Woolsey. I need the members of Alpha team in the control room immediately.”

Brady sat up with a frown. Half of Alpha was on a trading excursion to one of the neighboring planets. Ronon and Teyla weren’t due back for another few hours. Curious, she stood and snatched up her jacket, zipping it over her tank top as she hurried to the central station of the tower.

“What’s going on?” she asked Amelia as the other woman hurried toward the control room.

“I’m not sure. Chuck was on duty when she came back through, so I don’t really know what’s—“

“When who came through?” Brady asked.

Amelia chewed her lip and shook her head. “I don’t have time to get you caught up, Brady. I’m sorry. Maybe Carson can fill you in.” With an apologetic look, her friend rushed away.

Brady took a transporter to the infirmary. Jennifer Keller was still head of Atlantis’s medical team, but Carson still liked to hang around and help when he could. Truth be told, it still weirded her out a little that a clone of Carson Beckett actually existed, but other than a few months of missing memories because he was locked in a secret bunker somewhere, he was the same man as the original Carson. And now that Keller had recreated the serum that kept his cells from deteriorating, he was out of the stasis pod for good.

“Brady, dear, I’m glad you’re here. Put your finger here,” Carson said, thrusting a device and sticking her finger over a hole.

“Um, is this thing supposed to be whistling like that?” Brady asked.

“No. The bloody thing is busted and I’m waitlisted for equipment repair,” Carson said, bustling around the exam room. “Ah!” he said, producing a roll of stiff medical tape. He pulled off a tag and stuck it beside Brady’s finger. “One, two, three,” he said, slapping the tape over the crack as she jerked her finger away. He wrapped the tool several times, sighing in relief as the high-pitched squealing stopped. “Thanks a lot,” he said, taking the device from her.

“No problem,” Brady said. “So what’s going on with Alpha? Why the meeting? I thought Ronon and Teyla were still off-world.”

Carson sighed. “Why am I always the messenger?” he mumbled to himself before turning to look at her. “Brady, Teyla was sent back through the Stargate hours ago. She was hit with a stunner, but otherwise unharmed. A team went through and searched the planet for Ronon, but didn’t find—where are you going?” he asked when she turned and strode for the door.

“I have to go talk to Sheppard.”

“Brady, the team is back. They didn’t find anything. They’re meeting with Mr. Woolsey now and you can’t just barge in!”

“Watch me,” Brady muttered. She took a transporter back to the central station and raced up the stairs toward the conference room.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Thatcher,” a Marine said as he stepped in front of her. “Alphas only.”

“Step aside please, Colonel Sullivan,” Brady said.

“I can’t let you in, ma’am,” Sullivan said. “Mr. Woolsey expressly ordered no one but Colonel Sheppard and his team be permitted to enter. I really am sorry.”

Brady sighed, but nodded. “I’ll just wait here,” she said, taking a seat on the top step. Sullivan relaxed a bit and went back to his sentry duty. Brady jumped to her feet the second the conference room walls opened.

“—would still like to accompany Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay to Belkan,” Teyla was saying to Woolsey.

“Of course,” Woolsey said.

“Sheppard,” Brady called, stepping forward. “What’s on Belkan?”

Sheppard sighed as he went down the stairs. “Do you just skulk around listening to other people’s conversations? Don’t you have a job?”

“It’s my day off,” Brady said, keeping her steps even with his. “I was taking in some sun when I heard the call for you guys, then Carson told me only Teyla came back, so I thought—“

“You thought you’d come muscle your way into another mission,” Sheppard finished.

“What’s with you, Shep?” Brady asked. “And where is Ronon?”

“Are you asking as an archaeologist-slash-linguist or as Ronon’s girlfriend?” Sheppard asked. “Because neither is particularly helpful to me right now.”

“I’m asking as a member of this expedition,” Brady said coolly. She reached out and pulled Sheppard to a stop. “John, talk to me. What is going on?”

Sheppard sighed again. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. Teyla and Ronon were ambushed on their trade mission. Teyla was hit with a stunner blast and Ronon...we don’t really know where he is. We searched for him and didn’t find anything. The Daedelus confirmed that his transmitter isn’t on the planet. We’ve got a lead on another Satedan who might—“

“Why do you need a Satedan?” Brady asked.

“Tyre was behind the ambush,” Sheppard said. “Look, Brady. I’ll sign off on you going if you want to be our fourth, but I can’t guarantee what we’ll find by the time this is over.”

“You think he’s dead?” Brady asked.

“I don’t know,” Sheppard answered honestly. “I think maybe it would be best if you stayed here,” he said, biting his lip. “But it’s your choice.”

“I’m going,” Brady said. She gave a small smile. “You know me and waiting aren’t close friends.”

Sheppard chuckled and jerked his chin. “C’mon then. We’ve got a Satedan to find.”

\--

“I believe that is the man,” Teyla said as she, Sheppard, Brady, and McKay entered a dusty tavern. She pointed to a table on the other side of the room.

“Solen Sincha?” Brady asked as they approached the man. He sat bent over the table with his head resting on his arms.

“Go away,” the man groaned. “Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”

Sheppard’s gun clattered on the table as he pointedly dropped it and Brady kicked the bench, sliding it back and straddling it. Sincha looked first at the gun, then over at Brady. He turned his attention to Sheppard and squinted up at him.

“We need your help,” Sheppard said.

“Ronon Dex is in trouble,” McKay said, eyeing the drunken man with derision.

“Ronon Dex is always in trouble,” Sincha muttered. “What do I care?”

“His life is in danger,” McKay said.

“Again, what else is new? What’s he gotten himself into this time?”

“He was abducted by a fellow Satedan, a Wraith worshipper named Tyre,” Teyla explained. Sincha snorted.

“You mean former Wraith worshipper. Word is the dog disappointed its masters so they turned him loose.”

“Well, that’s uncharacteristically kind of them,” McKay commented.

“Not exactly,” Sincha said. “So long as he’s on the run, he’s a living, breathing example of what happens to humans who disappoint them.” He looked at Sheppard. “Tyre’s a marked man now. Most anyone I know would kill him on sight. It’s just a matter of time,” he said with a shrug.

“He was once a proud Satedan, not unlike yourself,” Teyla said. “He was subjected to unimaginable torture. Perhaps he had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Sincha replied savagely. “He could have chosen death like a true Satedan.”

“That’s real easy to say from a pub bench by someone coming off a three day drunk,” Brady said evenly. Sincha looked at her icily.

“Yeah? What’s it to you, _pien’ta_?”

“That’s not very nice,” Brady hissed, leaning forward and holding the man’s challenging stare.

“Any idea where we can find Tyre?” Sheppard interrupted, drawing the Satedan’s attention again.

Brady got up from the table and went to the bar, placing her shaking hands on the counter as she took deep breaths to control her anger. She was worried—more worried than she had ever been where Ronon was concerned, and that was saying something.

“You alright?”

She looked over her shoulder at McKay and nodded, smiling weakly. “Yeah, just trying to refrain from going over and beating that guy’s face in until he tells us what we need to know.”

“Yes, well, there’s nothing like a good strong bout of violence to make one feel better,” McKay said sarcastically and Brady chuckled.

“Pack it in,” Sheppard said as he passed the bar. “We’re going home.”

“Did he know where Tyre might be?” Brady asked, slinging her bag across her chest.

Sheppard shook his head. “But he’ll keep his ear to the ground.”

“So what do we do now?” McKay asked.

“I am afraid the only thing we can do now is wait for news that Tyre has been spotted,” Teyla said quietly. She slipped a comforting arm around Brady’s back. “Come. Let’s go home.”

\--

Brady sat in the alcove between her bedroom and bathroom, bouncing a rubber ball against the floor and wall. She glanced at the clock and sighed. It was the middle of the night and she had no desire to sleep. She was restless and worried, and she had nervous energy in spades. She rolled and pushed herself to her feet, tossing the ball onto her bed and tugging some jeans on over her boxers. She left the room and padded down the corridor with bare feet with no destination in mind, unsurprised when she found herself waving open the door to her office. She piddled around with a couple of case files, hoping to pass a few hours. By the time she left her office, the sky around Atlantis was beginning to lighten.

“Dr. Thatcher?”

Brady turned, surprised that anyone else was up. “Mr. Woolsey. Hi. I was just...working on a couple of projects,” she said with a shrug. “Do you always wake up this early?”

“Usually,” Woolsey said with a nod. “Unfortunately, I haven't quite adjusted to sleeping on Atlantis yet,” he admitted. “I generally go for a run around the city before starting my day. And you?”

“Me? Oh, no sir. I always have two or three alarms set, and usually Ronon still has to come back in and wake me up. I, uh...I don't suppose there's been any news tonight?”

“I'm sorry,” Woolsey said with a shake of his head. “Nothing yet.”

Brady nodded. “Um, I was just on my way back to my room. I guess I should try to get a few hours sleep. Just in case.”

“Of course,” he said, waving her on. “By all means.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Woolsey,” Brady said.

She went back to her quarters and kicked off her jeans before falling onto her bed. She tossed and turned for the next few hours, unable to sleep more than fifteen minutes at a time. Her alarm finally went off and she got out of bed, tugging her jeans back before shuffling from her bedroom.

She went to the cafeteria and eyed the healthy breakfast choices balefully. She liked Richard Woolsey okay, but she was avidly against some of his instituted changes...especially the removal of her Fruity Pebbles and other sugary cereals. She snatched up a cup of grapes and crossed the dining room to sit beside Rodney. He barely spared her a glance and kept talking to Sheppard.

“Like the Greek mathematician who came up with the Archimedes principle. The physical laws of buoyancy? Yeah, according to legend, the idea came to him when he was sitting in the bath, so--”

“What are we talking about?” Brady asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

“McKay was explaining why he was thinking about Ronon while he was in the bathtub,” Sheppard said.

McKay harrumphed. “The point is that the revelation occurred while Archimedes was, ya know, relaxing. Not thinking about the problem. The solution, as it turns out, was right in front of him all along.”

“You think we've overlooked something?” Sheppard asked.

“I don't know,” McKay said, sighing. “Maybe. Look, all I know is I was up all night going over it and I'm drawing a blank.”

“I'm not taking a bath with you,” Sheppard said.

“Me neither,” Brady added.

“I'm ignoring both of you,” McKay said snidely. “Let's just go over what we know.”

“Brady's buddy on Belkan said that Tyre's on the run. We can assume he's operating alone because if he had backup they would've been in on the ambush.”

“And chances are they would have just killed Teyla instead of only stunning her,” Brady said.

“So he's alone, with Ronon, on the run,” McKay reiterated. “Where would someone like that go?”

Brady scoffed and finished her grapes. “Where _wouldn't_ they go?” she said around the mouthful of fruit.

“I can think of something like two hundred planets that would be perfect. Where do you want to start?” Rodney asked Sheppard.

Major Lorne approached the table and looked at Sheppard. “How about Sarif Sur?”

“What?” he asked.

“Sarif Sur?” Brady asked, looking at the Major hopefully.

“We just got a message from Ronon's buddy Solen. He hears that Tyre and Ronon are holed up on a planet called Sarif Sur.”

Brady pushed back her chair and stood, waiting for Sheppard to give the word.

“Major, get your team ready,” he said. He nodded at Brady and stood. “You sure you're ok to go?”

“Damn straight,” she said with a nod.

Sheppard jerked his chin toward the exit. “Let's go. After you, Archimedes,” he said to McKay, slapping the man on the back as they headed for the door.

Brady hurried to the gear room and suited up. She strapped on a tac vest and checked the clip on her 9mm before slinging on a P-90. Once she had it locked and loaded, she waited by the exit for the rest of the team.

“Eager, doc?” Lorne asked with a grin.

“Just prepared,” she replied. “Where’s Teyla?”

“I’m not sure,” Lorne said. “She must be on baby duty.”

“Alright, guys. We gotta stay focused out there,” Sheppard said to the group. “We don’t know what we’re going into. We don’t know if they’re even on the planet anymore. I want everyone alert and on guard when we go through the gate. Clear?”

“Yes sir,” the Marines said. McKay and Brady nodded.

The teams entered the gate room as the event horizon opened.

“Godspeed, gentlemen,” Chuck said from the balcony. “Oh, and Dr. Thatcher,” he added.

The teams stepped through the gate and immediately took up perimeter positions. When the all-clear was given, they made their way down the narrow dirt road until they came to an abandoned village.

“Lorne, take your men that way,” Sheppard said, pointing. “Radio if you find anything.”

“Yes sir,” Lorne said. He gave the signal and his team moved down the street.

Sheppard, McKay, and Brady searched house after house, all with the same result.

“Nothing,” Sheppard said, frustrated.

McKay sighed. “So we were wrong. It has been known to happen,” he said.

“Still, it sets us back to square one,” Brady said, letting her rifle rest on its strap as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Hey, I always said this was a long shot,” McKay said.

The radios crackled and everyone tensed. “Colonel, this is Lorne. We’ve got something.”

“I knew it!” McKay said excitedly.

Brady and Sheppard shared a glance before filing out of the house. They met Lorne in the street.

“Over here,” he said, leading them to a house around the corner. They went inside, stopping in the front room and staring down at Tyre’s unconscious body. “We checked his pulse. It’s barely there. We’ve gotta move him or we lose him.”

“Any sign of Ronon?” Brady asked, and Lorne shook his head.

“Well if he’s not here, where is he?” McKay asked.

“Good question,” Sheppard said darkly.

The teams transported Tyre back to Atlantis. Once he was restrained in the infirmary, Sheppard and Lorne took their teams to debrief Woolsey.

“Permission to guard the prisoner?” Brady asked Sheppard when they were heading back to the gear room.

“Denied,” Sheppard said. “Brady, you aren’t military,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, but—“

“No, no buts. Look, I’ve already appointed two Marines to stand guard over the infirmary. Keller is with Tyre. She said there’s no telling when he will wake up. I’m going to strip my gear, take a shower, get some sleep, and then go and get an update from her. Feel free to join me outside the infirmary in a few hours.”

“Shep—“

“No arguing. And stop following me. This is the men’s showers,” he said.

Brady looked around and backed out the door. “Sheppard—“

“Nope,” he interrupted, shutting the door in her face.

She sighed and checked her watch. She had time to take a shower, but then she would go hang around the infirmary. She wanted to be there the second Keller had any info.

\--

“His injuries are minor but both his heart rate and blood pressure are elevated,” Keller said, glancing at her patient as he twitched in his sleep. His wrists and ankles were bound, but the doctor still tensed every time he jolted. She looked back at Sheppard, McKay, and Brady. “He woke up about an hour after you brought him in. He was delirious—sweating, nauseous, trembling, so I sedated him and ran some tests.” She pointed and walked away from the bed.

Brady stayed beside Tyre, staring down at him, willing him to wake. The bastard knew where Ronon was. The information was _right there_, so close...and yet so far. She looked up at Sheppard’s soft whistle and followed the group out of the infirmary.

“If he dies, our chances of finding Ronon die with him,” Sheppard said quietly to Keller as Brady approached.

“Of course,” Keller said, looking uncomfortable. “But it could be days before he’s coherent enough to tell us anything. Withdrawals of this magnitude...I don’t know what drug to liken it to, Colonel.”

Sheppard nodded and straightened as Teyla ran up to them.

“John, why wasn’t I informed about the mission to rescue Ronon?” she demanded.

Brady sensed the tension and grimaced. “Um, what time is it?” she asked, looking at her watch. “Oh, a little after two. I’ve got to...”

“Oh, I’m gonna, um, see if they’re still serving lunch,” McKay said. “It’s Taquito Tuesday.”

“I think I’ll join you,” Keller said, sliding past Sheppard and walking down the hall with Brady and McKay.

“Wow, that is one conversation I do not want to witness,” McKay said.

“What’s the deal? The tension was so thick back there you could cut it with a knife,” Keller said.

“Teyla’s quitting the team,” McKay said.

“What?” Brady asked. “When did she decide that?”

“Well she hasn’t exactly decided,” McKay said. “_Yet_. But, I mean, come on! Raising her baby,” he said, holding up one hand. “Or getting shot at seventy percent of the time?” he finished, holding up the other. He mimed balancing them. “That’s a really tough choice.”

“I’ve never thought of the possibility that Teyla would go off duty,” Brady said. “I mean, I know most of the time I only go offworld for language stuff—unless someone goes missing—but still...that means most likely she’ll leave Atlantis and move with the Athosians.”

“Relax,” McKay said. “You aren’t a child whose parents are getting a divorce. I’m sure she’ll stay on Atlantis. I mean she made Kanaan move here. Don’t worry about that. We’ve got plenty of other stuff to worry about.”

\--

The days dragged by with excruciating slowness. Brady spent most of that time hovering outside the infirmary and talking to Carson until Woolsey ordered her back to her office. Reluctantly, and with great resentment toward the new expedition leader, she went back to work.

Three days after Ronon’s capture, Tyre broke through the restraints and fought with the two Marines stationed to guard him. Dr. Keller used the medical bay’s emergency stunner and rendered him unconscious. When news of the scuffle reached the science wing, Brady rushed to the Isolation Observation room.

“I thought it would be best to put him in Isolation,” Keller said to Woolsey and Sheppard. She glanced at Brady before continuing. “At least this way if he breaks free again, he won’t be an immediate danger to anyone.”

“Dr. Thatcher?” Woolsey said, looking at her. “Do you need something?”

“I was just checking on Tyre, sir,” Brady replied, the image of professional courtesy. She looked down into the room where the Satedan lay writhing in pain. The man screamed in agony as he looked up at his observers.

“How long is it gonna take him to go through this?” Sheppard asked.

“To be honest, I’m not even sure he will,” Keller said.

“That’s not an option,” Brady said quietly, never taking her eyes from the patient.

“Please!” Tyre screamed. “You’re killing me! Please!”

Brady steeled herself against his pleas, though it was hard to watch anyone suffer that much.

“Can’t you give him something for the pain?” Woolsey asked.

“Sedatives’ll make him more comfortable, but they’ll also slow down his recovery,” Keller said. Brady jerked her head up and looked at Sheppard.

“I want this to go as quick as possible,” he said, watching Tyre. He shook his head. “No sedatives.”

\--

Brady sat in the Observation room the next day, watching Tyre sleep fitfully. Woolsey had finally given up on trying to keep her in her office, though she had finished translating a ceremonial disc to soften her blatant disregard for his authority. Sheppard and Teyla had both been on her to do her job, but she ignored them like a rebellious teen ignored her parents, to use Rodney’s metaphor. Besides, she wanted to be there when Tyre woke up.

_If _Tyre woke up.

As if on cue, the Satedan’s eyelids fluttered and opened. Brady caught her breath, waiting to see if he passed out again. When the man turned his head and croaked something to Keller, Brady bolted from Observation and ran down the stairs to the Isolation room.

“How is he?” she demanded as soon as she entered.

“The Wraith enzyme is gone. He asked to talk to Colonel Sheppard,” Keller replied. “Brady, you can’t be in here.”

“Go and get Sheppard,” she said. “I’ll behave. Just go get Sheppard.” Keller looked torn, clearly not wanting to leave. “Jen, please,” Brady said quietly.

Keller pointed her finger at Brady. “You’d better not do anything stupid. I’ll be right back. Stay with her,” the doctor barked at the Marine standing outside.

“What’s on your mind, little bookworm?” Tyre asked, leaning his head back against his pillows and letting his eyes drift shut.

“Why did you do this?”

“At the time? The Wraith wanted Ronon and I needed the enzyme. When your people left me on that Hive, the Wraith cut me off. They should have killed me,” he said, lifting his head and looking at her. “Their rage should have been enough to end it. They should have killed me,” he said again, dropping his gaze. “I wish they would have. Then Ronon wouldn’t...”

“Then Ronon wouldn’t what?” Brady asked. “Answer me!”

The door to the Isolation room swooshed open and Keller led Sheppard inside. His eyes landed on Brady and he looked annoyed, but then he gave his attention to Tyre.

“I know where they've taken Ronon,” he said without preamble.

“Can you give us a Gate address?” Sheppard asked.

“Better,” Tyre replied. “I'll lead you right into the heart of the facility.”

To his credit, Sheppard didn’t audibly scoff. His tone, however, belied his concern. “Well, you’re still recovering.”

“Dr. Keller told me there were no longer any traces of the Wraith enzyme in my system,” Tyre insisted.

“Well that’s not really the point—“

“Colonel, _please_!” Tyre said desperately, his eyes sincere. “Let me help you get Ronon back.”

Sheppard chewed his lip as he thought. Brady turned and leaned close to him, her back to Tyre. “Shep, Woolsey will never sign off on us taking Tyre with us,” she whispered.

“You let me handle Woolsey,” Sheppard said. “Go and get McKay. Tell him the situation and meet me in the conference room in twenty. Go before I change my mind and you stay your ass here,” he added. Brady gave a sharp nod and left the room, heading back to the science wing.

\--

Somehow, Sheppard managed to finagle Woolsey into letting them take Tyre onto the Wraith cruiser, and much to Brady’s relief, Teyla made it as well. The plan was briefly explained to the teams in the embarkation room: get in, set explosives, get Ronon, and blow up the cruiser.

As Sheppard and Lorne led their teams down the corridor of the cruiser, Tyre walked in front. He held up his hand, signaling that they stop, and slowly withdrew his sword. Suddenly he slashed out, dropping two Wraith drones in seconds.

“This way,” he whispered.

The teams made their way to a lab of some kind. Brady lifted her gun to neutralize the guard, but Tyre threw a knife. The blade buried itself in the Wraith’s forehead with a sickening squelch and the creature slumped to the floor. Tyre rushed to retrieve his weapon.

“What is this place?” Teyla asked.

“You were looking for a target area that’ll maximize the effects of your explosives,” Tyre said. “Well, this is it—the facility’s power relay chamber.” He jerked his chin as Lorne passed out blocks of C-4 to the team members. “Hide your charges to avoid discovery.”

The team ferreted away their charges, securing them and double-checking the wiring and placement.

“You think here’s ok?” McKay asked Brady.

“Sure. It’s very Feung Shui,” she said. McKay grinned, looking pleased.

“I assume you have means to remote detonate from a safe distance?” Tyre asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Brady asked.

“Yeah, don’t you ever watch movies?” Lorne asked with a grin at her.

Sheppard shook his head and pulled out the detonator control. He flipped it open. “Just flip and click,” he said.

Tyre nodded and waved the teams out of the room, leading the way back down the corridor. “This way.”

The door to a transporter opened and everyone crammed inside. Brady hummed the opening notes to the theme from Magnificent Seven and grinned when Lorne and two other Marines joined in.

“All right, children,” Sheppard said as the transporter stopped. “Quiet.”

They stepped out into the new corridor and made it around the corner before halting. Ronon stood at the other end of the hallway.

“Ronon!” Sheppard said, clearly relieved. He lowered his gun and the others did the same. He stepped aside as Brady stepped forward.

“Sheppard,” Ronon said in greeting. He looked at Brady and smiled. “It’s about time.”

Something in his tone made Brady’s smile falter. She noticed the way Sheppard’s hand tightened on his gun. He knew something was off as well.

“What’s going on, buddy?” Sheppard asked warily.

“We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever show up,” the Wraith commander said as it stepped around the corner and stood behind Ronon.

Brady noticed movement behind her and assumed Wraith guards surrounded them. Her eyes, however, never wavered from Ronon. He stared at the group of Atlanteans with cold indifference.

“Ronon?” she whispered. _No, no, no...please, no_, she thought. Behind her, she felt Teyla move closer in a secret sign of consolation and solidarity.

His gaze flicked from Sheppard to her and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. Brady’s stomach rolled, but she straightened her shoulders and put on her game-face.

“You’re at a disadvantage,” the Wraith said. “You can attempt an escape, but you’ll have to sacrifice your friend’s life to do so.”

Sheppard lifted his rifle. Lorne, Brady, and Teyla did the same. “Ronon,” Sheppard said. “Get out of the way.”

“I can’t do that,” Ronon said as he stepped more fully in front of the Wraith.

“Ronon, step aside,” Sheppard ordered slowly.

Ronon remained rooted to the spot, meeting Sheppard’s surprised gaze with a challenging one of his own. From behind Teyla, Tyre wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed his blade tightly against her throat.

“His life won’t be the only one forfeit,” Tyre said. “Lower your weapons,” he said, looking at Lorne and Brady, who turned to Sheppard.

Sheppard kept his eyes forward but reluctantly lowered his gun. Brady glared daggers at Tyre but allowed Lorne to push her rifle down. She turned around as Ronon strode toward them.

“Take them away,” the Wraith said to the drones that flanked them.

“Ronon, what’s happening here?” Sheppard asked, shaking his head softly.

Like a flash, Ronon’s fist struck out with brutality, punching Sheppard in the face.

“Ronon!” Brady shouted, lunging forward. He caught her by the chin, his large hand securing her face. She gripped his wrist as she stared into his eyes, pleading with whatever piece of her Satedan there was left. Ronon smiled cruelly and leaned close to her, taunting her. He released her with a shove, pushing her back into the arms of the waiting guard. The guard hauled her away with the rest of the Atlanteans as two more dragged Sheppard along behind. “Ronon, you stupid sonofabitch!” Brady screamed. “Remember who you are!”

The guard tossed her into a cell with Sheppard, McKay, and Teyla. She stumbled, but righted herself quickly and turned to challenge the Wraith guard. Unconcerned, the guard lowered the shield on the cell. Brady sighed and sank to the floor. She looked across the cell at Sheppard.

“How’s your face?”

“Feels like a wookie tried to touch the back of my skull through my nose,” Sheppard said, sniffing. “But I’ll live.”

“Yeah, for now, maybe,” Rodney muttered.

Brady leaned her head back against the wall of the cell and closed her eyes as McKay took up his usual prison habit of pacing and talking.

“Well you know, on the bright side at least we don’t have to go back to Atlantis and hear Woolsey say I told you so.”

“We’re gonna get out of here,” Sheppard said doggedly.

“Oh sure,” McKay said sarcastically. “I mean, all we have to do is escape from this cell, right? I mean, get past all the armed Wraith that are guarding the facility, and free Lorne and his team from wherever they’re being held, to get back to the Jumper which is probably being disassembled as we speak, and...” He paused, pretending to think. “Right! Of course! We’ve got to rescue Ronon, who—I don’t know if you happened to notice or not—isn’t quite himself.”

“Rodney, your sarcasm is duly noted,” Sheppard said. “Listen, we’re gonna get Ronon and we’re gonna go back to Atlantis.”

“And even if we do, then what? Huh? I mean, Tyre’s recovery hasn’t exactly been the rousing success we were hoping for.”

Sheppard stared up at McKay pointedly, flicking his eyes toward Brady, and spoke slowly.

“We’re going to get Ronon back.”

McKay caught on and sighed quietly. “Yeah. Of course,” he said, resuming his pacing. He gave Teyla a thumbs-up and forced a smile. “We’re gonna get him back.”

“When you retire from the Stargate program, McKay, don’t try to be an actor,” Brady said dryly, lifting her head and arching a brow at him.

It was quiet for a few minutes as everyone lost themselves in their own thoughts and Rodney paced. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

“All right, I got it,” he said. “We tell them we have some vital information that we’re willing to give up, but we will only share it with Ronon. So, they send Ronon, he shows up, we appeal to him—I mean, the part of him that’s still _him._“

“I can only think of three things wrong with that plan,” Sheppard said.

“The most important being that there isn’t anything of Ronon left near the surface,” Brady interjected.

“But go on,” Sheppard encouraged.

“He hasn't been brainwashed as long as Tyre, which means he might be more susceptible to our influence,” McKay said. “We convince him to let us out or, or, or lead us out of here and then, you know, worst case scenario, he's not entirely convinced.”

“That’s your worst case scenario?”

“We could take advantage of the moment of uncertainty and—“

Brady lurched to her feet and paced behind Rodney as Tyre approached from the corridor.

“Sheppard.” The cell door slid open and Tyre stepped aside. “You’ve been summoned.”

“You wanna go over the plan one more time?” McKay whispered to Sheppard. Brady ignored him and kept her attention rapt on the traitorous Satedan.

“Guess it’s my turn for the sales pitch, huh?” Sheppard asked Tyre.

Tyre nodded and turned his back to them. Sheppard slapped McKay on the arm in encouragement and nodded at Teyla. He glanced at Brady.

“Behave, kid,” he said quietly. He followed Tyre down the corridor.

“What do we do? What do we do?” McKay chanted to himself in a whisper, resuming his pacing.

“McKay, you seriously have to relax,” Brady said.

“Relax? Why would I possibly do that? I don’t know if it has escaped your attention, Dr. Thatcher, but our one and only militarian was just picked as the Wraith’s next Anakin Skywalker.”

“Calm yourself, Rodney,” Teyla said. “We will think of something to get out of here. We only have to put our minds together.”

“Or I can just open the door.” The trio whirled at the sound of Sheppard’s voice.

“How’d you get away?” McKay asked.

“I didn’t,” Sheppard replied, jerking his head toward the end of the corridor. Tyre stood at the corner, his arms crossed over his chest. When Sheppard opened the cell and the team joined the Satedan at the end of the hallway, he gave them directions to Lorne’s cell and passed the team their confiscated weapons.

“I have to take Sheppard with me to the commander,” Tyre said. “If I don’t return with him soon, he will get suspicious and sound an alarm. Take the second left after you free Major Lorne. Follow that corridor all the way down and it will take you to the feeding chamber.” He looked at Teyla. “I’m sorry for the deception, but I had to do it. There was no other way to get an opportunity to get Ronon and get out of here.”

“Well, just this once we’ll excuse you,” Sheppard said. “Come on. We’d better get this thing rolling.”

Brady, Teyla, and McKay followed Tyre’s instructions and wove their way through the bowels of the cruiser until they finally came to Lorne’s team’s cell. They dispatched the guards and opened the cell.

“How’d you get out?” Lorne asked, astounded.

“Tyre freed us,” McKay said as he passed weapons to the other Marines. “Let’s go.”

“Plan’s in progress,” Brady said with a smile.

“Ok,” Lorne said with a nod. “Come on, guys.”

The teams carefully picked their way down the hallways, picking up speed when they heard machine gun fire from up ahead. “That sounds promising,” Brady said.

They approached from behind a flood of drones, cutting through them until they could set up inside the chamber. The soldiers laid down suppressing fire while Teyla, Brady, and McKay rushed to assist Tyre and Sheppard. Ronon had Tyre pinned and was beating him. Teyla blasted him with a stunner, but it had no affect.

“Hit him again!” Brady shouted over the gunfire. Teyla fired again and Ronon’s punches slowed, but he kept going. Shaking her head, Brady slid out of her rifle strap and held the gun like a baseball bat. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she said, rushing over and swinging the weapon with all of her might. Ronon’s head snapped to the side and blood poured from his mouth. He turned a furious gaze to Brady for a split second before falling unconscious to the floor. Brady’s shoulders slumped in relief and she helped Tyre to his feet as Teyla ordered McKay and a Marine to carry Ronon. They went to Sheppard’s side.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not so good!” McKay said.

“My guys are holding them off,” Lorne called, but not for much longer.

Sheppard snatched a sidearm from Teyla’s holster and put his foot on the chest of the Wraith commander, pointing the gun at his head.

“Tell them to back off,” he ordered.

“My life will be a small price to pay for the lives of you and your team,” the Wraith said.

Sheppard kicked the commander hard in the bleeding wound on his torso and the creature groaned. Tyre crossed to Sheppard and lifted the detonator remote out of his pocket. “And how about the destruction of this facility?” he asked, showing the Wraith the remote. “Is that a small enough price as well?”

“You lie,” the Wraith growled.

“I told them where to hide the charges for maximum effect. Enough explosives to destroy this place and all its research. Any advantage your Hive may hold over its rivals will be gone with the push of a button.” He met the Wraith's doubtful gaze with defiance and flipped open the remote.

“Wait,” he hissed as Tyre placed his thumb over the button.

“Bring him,” Sheppard said, striding away from the Wraith. Two Marines hurried forward and secured the commander.

The Atlanteans walked through the cruiser halls, dragging Ronon's unconscious body and shuffling the Wraith between them. They blasted their way through many of the guards, but wave after wave kept coming.

“Tell them to let us through,” Sheppard ordered the Wraith as they picked their way to where the Jumper was stored.

The Wraith stared at him coldly. “What's to stop you from triggering the explosives from a safe distance?”

“My presence here,” Tyre interjected. He winced as he stepped forward and for the first time Brady noticed a large slash across his stomach. “You let them go,” he said, “and I'll remain behind.”

“Tyre?” Teyla asked, uncertain.

“Sheppard, he can't stay here,” Brady whispered.

“Once they have reached the Gate, I'll trade you this device for my freedom. Or we all die together,” he added when the commander hesitated.

The Wraith glared at Tyre, but eventually nodded. “Let them go!” he called to his guards. The guards shuffled as if they were debating disobeying orders, but slowly they began to back away. “I'll be right behind you,” Tyre said to Sheppard as he passed him his sword. Sheppard nodded knowingly, his expression regretful. He jerked his head to his team. “Let's go!”

McKay hurried ahead, leaving two Marines to juggle Ronon. Brady threw a look at Tyre over her shoulder. The Satedan gave her a solemn nod before she disappeared around the corner.

–

Brady hovered near the corner of the Plexiglas window in the observation room, staring over the ledge at the heart-rending sight below. Ronon had regained consciousness not long after arriving back on Atlantis and was strapped onto a bed in Isolation. He writhed and pulled at his restraints, raging at them to let him go. Sheppard stood nearby, his face full of pain as he looked into the room. McKay turned away, unable to witness the scene any longer.

“How long...” Brady began quietly, stopping when her voice stuck in her throat. She shook her head and tried again. “How long can he do this?” she asked Teyla. Ronon screamed furiously at them to let him go. Teyla remained silent and gently squeezed Brady's hand.

“What kind of time frame for recovery are we looking at?” Mr. Woolsey asked.

“It's impossible to predict,” Keller said. “He has so much of the enzyme running through him that his body can hardly process it. When it eventually does, that's when he'll come down.”

Sheppard flinched as Ronon shouted his name. “I'm gonna talk to him,” he said, turning.

“John?” Brady whispered as he passed. She looked at him questioningly, her eyes pleading to go with him.

“You stay behind me and keep your distance from him,” he said. “He's not himself right now,” he continued as they descended the stairs. “But maybe if he sees you it'll help calm him down or something. Open it,” he told the guard.

The doors slid open and Ronon sat up, straining against his bonds. “There he is. Hey buddy.” He caught sight of Brady hovering behind Sheppard and smiled. “Well, this is cozy. You brought my woman to heel, Sheppard?” He tossed his dreadlocks and tugged at his wrist cuffs. “So, how long are you planning on keeping me prisoner?”

“As long as it takes to clear your head,” Sheppard said evenly.

“My head _is_ clear.”

“You may be feeling fine right now, but things are gonna get pretty rough for you. We're gonna get you through this,” he said, glancing back at Brady.

“Ronon, you have to trust us,” she said quietly.

Ronon caught her gaze and stared her down, but she refused to look away. “Whatever you've got planned, it's not going to work,” he said darkly. “You've got a choice. You can either kill me,” he said, looking back at Sheppard, “or you let me go.”

“Look--”

“And if you let me go,” he continued, interrupting Sheppard's sentence, “ I promise I won't come after you or Atlantis. And you tell Tyre I won't come after him either.”

“Tyre's dead,” Sheppard said coolly. “He sacrificed himself taking out the Wraith lab.”

Ronon's eyes narrowed, but otherwise he looked uninterested. “Yeah? Well, he was a traitor.”

Brady bowed her head and closed her eyes. Ronon saw the action and spoke to her, preying on weaknesses.

“Did you say a prayer for the fallen?” he asked acidly. “Save your prayers, little office rat. When I get out of here, you'll need them for yourself,” he added. The smile he gave her had Brady's stomach roiling. It wasn't hard to catch his threat.

“Tyre was a good friend,” Sheppard said, stepping between them. “We all are. You're gonna realize that pretty soon.” He took Brady by the shoulder and turned her, ushering her out.

“Yeah, well you just kill me or you set me free. Sheppard!” he shouted furiously. “You kill me or set me free!”

The doors had barely closed with Sheppard and Brady on the other side before she turned and leaned her forehead against the wall.

“You alright?” Sheppard asked.

“I'm fine, Shep,” she replied. Her words were belied by the sob that shook her shoulders seconds after the statement.

“Hey,” he said gently, chewing his lip. “We're gonna get him back.”

Brady nodded and ran a hand through her hair, pushing herself away from the wall. “I know. I just...I hate that he has to go through this.”

“I know,” Sheppard said. He draped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Walk me to the cafeteria. You haven't eaten since we got back. You need your strength, kid. It's gonna be a hell of a few days.”

–

It was night on Atlantis. The suns had set and most of the personnel had retired to their quarters. Brady sat in the corner of Isolation with her knees pulled to her chest as she helplessly watched Ronon writhe in agony. She turned her eyes upward and saw Teyla and Sheppard watching from the Observation room.

“Kill me, please,” Ronon whispered, rolling onto his side and drawing his legs up. He wept as his eyes met Brady's. “Kill me, please!” he said louder, rolling back over onto his back. “Please kill me!” he shouted.

Brady covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. Sheppard and Teyla looked away from the window, their faces matching expressions of anguish. Brady stayed in the corner for most of the night, but eventually moved to a chair that sat near the bed. Ronon hissed and growled at her like a trapped animal, then crumpled into agonized tears as his body was wracked with tremors. Sometime in the morning, Brady saw that McKay had spelled Teyla in Observation. Keller came in to check Ronon's vital signs and mopped his brow with a cool cloth. His body was painfully tense, his eyes wide as he watched her every move.

“His vitals are starting to level,” Keller said quietly to Brady. “The next 24 hours are gonna be the most critical.”

Brady nodded. She reached up to rub a crick out of her neck as Keller left. She jolted as a hand closed over the back of her neck, gently squeezing the kink. She turned he head and offered Sheppard a weary smile.

“You need to go get some sleep. I'll stay with him for a bit.”

“I've slept some,” Brady said. “Thank you for the offer though.”

“It wasn't an offer, Brady. It was an order. Go get some sleep.”

She could see by the stubborn set of his jaw that he was in military mode, which meant no matter what she wanted or how much she argued, she would be leaving Isolation one way or another.

“I'll be back in an hour,” she said. She left the room and headed for her quarters, first swinging by the cafeteria for something to eat.

“Need a hand?”

She looked up at Carson and smiled. “Thanks,” she said as he took the tray from her so that she could fill a cup with juice. “How's it going, Carson?”

“It's going well,” he replied. “How's Ronon?”

“He's starting to settle,” she said, lidding the cup. “Sheppard ordered me to rest, so I've been banished from Isolation _and_ Observation. Figured I'd come get some snackies and head down for a few minutes of sleep.”

“It's for the best,” Carson said. “No offense, dear, but you've certainly looked better.”

Brady laughed. “Gee, thanks. Could you be more charming?” she deadpanned.

Carson grinned, his dimples flashing. “Want some company while you eat?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. They went to her room and Brady sat her tray on her desk. She sat and Carson pulled up a chair, stretching out his legs and crossing his arms over his chest. Brady eyed him carefully. “Sheppard didn't send you to babysit me, did he?”

“Where'd you get that idea?” Carson asked. “Eat your meal,” he added, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. “Did I tell you about the village we found on Mx9-487?” he asked. “It was beautiful. The people there were warm and welcoming. The place reminded me of a small community near where my grandmother lived, in Scotland. It had that same folksy air to it. You'd have loved it,” he said. He went on talking about the village and the people, listing the things they saw that would have interested her. “Maybe once Ronon is back to himself, you can go with my team to--” He let the sentence drop as he lifted his head and looked at her. She lay on the desk with her head resting on her outstretched arm, her other hand still curled around her fork. Carson chuckled to himself and shook his head.

When Brady awoke, she was in her bed. She didn't know how long she had been there, but the suns had set once again. With a curse, she tossed back the blanket and threw her legs over the side. She slung on her uniform jacket and reached for the door panel just as the doorbell chimed. She nearly ran into McKay in her haste to leave.

“Ronon, um, just woke up. They moved him to the infirmary. He's asking for you,” he said excitedly.

Brady rushed down the corridor and into the transporter, tapping her foot impatiently as she was taken to the medical wing.

“There you are,” Sheppard said as she entered the room. Ronon sat on a bed beside him, looking pale but much better. He offered her a weak smile.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hey you,” she replied, approaching the side of the bed.

“I'm gonna go fill Woolsey in,” Sheppard said, patting the bed. He looked at Ronon and nodded. “It's good to have you back, buddy.”

Ronon lifted his chin in acknowledgment and then looked back at Brady. “I told 'em not to wake you,” he said. “Sheppard said you barely left.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure you were ok when you woke up,” she said, picking at her fingertips.

“I'll be ok,” he said. She nodded and looked at him, smiling sheepishly when tears filled her eyes. He opened his arms and held a hand out to her. “Come here.”

Brady fell into his embrace, burying her face against his neck and breathing his scent as she had done on so many nights. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed, gently rocking. He stroked her hair and trailed his fingertips along her cheek, swiping away the single tear that rolled down.

“Hey, we're ok,” he said soothingly. “Everything is ok.”

“It was close this time,” she whispered. She leaned up and kissed him, taking him off guard by the desperation in it. “It was almost not ok,” she breathed against his lips as she rested her forehead against his.

“Almost never counts,” he said, trying for a smile. She gave him one in return and cupped his neck, lightly stroking her thumb over his tattoo. She placed another kiss on his mouth and stood up as Keller pulled the curtain aside.

“Sorry,” she said with a smile. “Gimme ten seconds. You won't even know I'm here.”

Brady trailed her fingers down Ronon's arm and linked them with his. He squeezed her hand reassuringly as Keller fluttered around his monitors. True to her word, the doctor worked quickly and silently, leaving almost immediately. Brady noticed the sleepiness on Ronon's face and tilted her head to the side.

“Why don't you go on to sleep?” she suggested. “I'll hang out here if you need anything.”

Ronon nodded and pulled her down for one more kiss before releasing her hand. She perched on the side of the empty bed beside his and watched him until his breathing evened and he drifted off to sleep. Then she lay down on her side and let herself be lulled by the steady rhythm of the monitors. She awoke when Sheppard entered the room, but she kept her eyes mostly closed and feigned sleep. Sheppard approached Ronon's bed and held out Tyre's sword. Ronon looked at it solemnly and Sheppard silently laid it on the bed beside him. They looked at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, neither needing to. They understood each other clearly. Sheppard slowly turned and left the room. Ronon picked up the sword and unsheathed it, holding it up and examining the glinting blade. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes in sorrow, holding the weapon close as he wept for his lost brother.

Brady ached to go to him and offer comfort, but she knew the Satedan well, and this was something he needed to do on his own. She rolled away from him, offering him as much privacy as she could.


	17. Crowded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Body-snatching tiny alien fairy. Two bosses, one body. Upset Satedan. Trip to SGC. Familiar faces.

**_CROWDED _** _November 2008_

“Hey, you,” Brady said, tilting her face back so that Ronon could lean down and kiss her. “I was wondering if you'd remember that we had plans tonight.”

“I remembered. You wanted a date,” Ronon said. “Even if we do sleep together every night.”

Brady arched a brow. “First rule if you're attached to an Earth-girl: sex does not equal relationship.”

“True,” Ronon agreed, his arms circling her waist. He ducked his head and nipped at her neck. “Sex equals sex.”

“Nice try, pal,” Brady said with a laugh, placing her hands on his shoulders and lightly pushing him back. “But we're still having date night. It's the best way to start our two week vaycay.” She stepped away and slapped his butt, glancing back over her shoulder with a catty smile. “Shower. Now. I'll be on the Tower.”

–

Ronon joined her on the Second Tower balcony a short time later. The stars were out in full force, the impressive sweep of the Pegasus galaxy swirling across the horizon. Brady stood at the edge of the balcony, staring over the view of the city to the ocean. The line of the mainland was no longer visible, having disappeared with the setting of the suns. Ronon stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, drawing her into the shelter of his body. He leaned down and rested his chin on her shoulder, smiling when she turned her head and placed a smacking kiss on his cheek. Though he would never admit it out loud to anyone, he loved moments like this where he didn’t have to be a soldier or warrior. He was just a man with his woman.

“Did you bring the food?” Brady asked.

“You think I’d come all the way out here and not have the food with me?” he asked, patting her hip. “Come on.”

They sat on the blanket that Brady had spread out, passing bowls of fruit and cheese. Brady took a bite of a chunk of pineapple and looked up at the sky, smiling pensively. She lightly waved her hand as a lightning bug of some sort flew around her face.

“I saw on your calendar where today’s your brother’s birthday,” Ronon commented.

“Yeah,” Brady said. “He’s...fifteen? Somewhere around there,” she said with a frown. “That’s kinda sad, but then, we weren’t exactly close. I had already graduated college and moved to Denver by the time he was old enough to hang out with.” She tapped her head. “Genius, remember?”

“How long has it been since you’ve been home?” he asked, waving the lightning bug away from him. “Almost a year, right?”

“Yeah. I went for Thanksgiving last year. But it’s not like I haven’t been busy with important stuff, ya know? I can’t exactly just take a jaunt to Indiana for a weekend. Besides, I email my mom several times a week. She knows I work for the government and that I can’t give her any info, so she doesn’t ask questions. We just talk about normal stuff—what cute thing my sister’s weirdo kid did, how my dad is driving her crazy working on the old truck he’s been rebuilding since I was nine...stuff like that.”

“So I take it you haven’t mentioned you’ve been sharing an alien’s bed for a year now,” Ronon said with a tight smile. She saw the underlying unease in his eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I have told her that I’ve been seeing someone from work,” she admitted smugly. “I haven’t told her we’ve been seeing each other naked, because, trust me, that’s not something that would fly with my mom. But yes, Mr. Doubtful, she knows about you. I even sent a picture. She thinks I did an amazing job finding a hottie.” She blew at the lightning bug and frowned, batting at it. “This bug is really starting to—“ Before the movement could register, the bug flew around her head and into her ear. Brady went into a panic, digging and pulling at her ear and shaking her head.

“What is it?” Ronon asked, sitting up. He caught her wrists and held her still. “Look at me. Hey!”

She stilled, slowly bringing her head up and straightening. She glared down at Ronon’s hands. “Unhand me at once,” she said threateningly.

“What?” Ronon asked, confused. “Brady, are you ok?”

She pulled her hands away and stood, gazing down at him with a superior look. “Is that this being’s name?” she asked dismissively.

“This being?” he repeated. He pushed himself to his feet, towering over her, and when he spoke his voice was an angry growl. “Who are you?”

“You dare question me? I demand you take me to your king immediately,” she said, jerking her chin up.

Ronon seized her arm and hauled her across the balcony toward the door.

“Unhand me! Unhand me, you ruffian!” she screeched, trying to jerk away as he dragged her through the door. He held on with little effort as he fished his radio out of his pocket and slipped his earpiece in.

“Sheppard, come in.”

“This is Sheppard. What’s going on, big guy? Thought you were on a date.”

“With whom are you speaking?” the woman demanded. “Answer me at once!”

“I was,” he said. “It got crashed. Brady’s been...infected, or something.”

“_Infected_?” the woman seethed. “Infected, indeed. I demand that you—“

“I demand that _you_ shut the hell up,” Ronon interrupted. “Sheppard, meet me in the infirmary.”

\--

Brady’s vision wavered and then slowly cleared. She groaned as Carson shined a light in her eyes.

_What happened? What—_

“Who is that?”

_Who is _that_?!_ Brady demanded.

Carson, Sheppard, and Ronon stood in a semi-circle around an examination table and stared at the person that controlled Brady’s body. Ronon had strapped her wrists to the table and she had slipped into a sullen silence as the doctors examined her. Carson frowned at her as she broke the silence.

“Who is who?” he asked.

_Why are you all just staring at me? And why can’t I move?_

“I believe this...Brady person...is still in my body,” the woman said irritably.

_It’s _ my _ body!_

“Silence,” the woman said. “Your voice is unpleasant. You,” she said, looking at Sheppard. “Bring me to your king. I demand an audience.”

“You demand?” Sheppard repeated, arching a brow.

“Yeah, she does that,” Ronon said, crossing his arms. “Who are you?” he asked the woman.

“I do not answer to you,” she said regally.

Sheppard unlatched the restraints as a gesture of good faith. “If you want to see our...king, you’d better start cooperating,” he said. “Now answer the question.”

The woman sighed impatiently and placed her hands demurely in her lap. “Very well. My name is Ilyria, Queen of the Daegans.”

“Ok. Who are the Daegans?” Sheppard asked.

“My people inhabit this world. We are rulers of the land and we have little to do with water dwellers. However, when fears arose of an invasion from your kingdom, I decreed to investigate your lands and confer with your king. Naturally, I could not do so in my own form, as I have no intention of being intimidated by size.”

_Oh my God, you were the bug that was flying around my head!_ Brady said.

“Hold your tongue,” Ilyria said sharply.

_Stuff it, lady._

“We aren’t gonna invade anybody,” Sheppard said. “Look, we aren’t a kingdom. We have no king. We’re explorers. We have an expedition leader, but that’s it. So, why don’t you come out of there, and we’ll all sit down and talk about this.”

“Very well,” Ilyria said. “You have an extraction chamber?”

“A what?” Ronon asked.

The queen looked at him. “An extraction chamber. A designated room with silos to catch the being’s lifeblood. Surely you do not just let it spill unheeded?” she asked, disgusted.

_What?!_ Brady shouted.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Lifeblood? Just how in the hell does this extraction thing happen?” Sheppard demanded.

“I have merged with this being’s control center and she refuses to release me,” Ilyria explained.

_I have a name, you know,_ Brady said irritably. _And it isn’t like I’m keeping you here on purpose._

“That being has a name,” Ronon said. “It’s Brady.”

“Yes, of course it is,” Ilyria said dismissively. “In a sense I am this...Brady’s control center. The only means of extraction is to remove the brain and release me, so that I might be reintroduced to my own form.”

“The bug thing is your form?” Ronon asked.

“I have just as much of a human form as you,” she said. “Just because your senses are not sharp enough to perceive it...” she lifted her shoulder in a delicate shrug. “My own body is in stasis inside this host, where it will remain until time for extraction. Daegans are an advanced race. We have abilities that would be awkward for your people, given your unaccommodating size.”

“What kind of abilities?” Carson asked, intrigued.

“I am not inclined to share the secrets of my people with common strangers,” she said.

“They can fly, they can glow, and apparently, they can take over people’s bodies,” Ronon said. “Anything I forgot?”

_He’s not happy with you, in case you didn’t realize_, Brady said smugly. Ilyria tisked and raised her chin haughtily.

“I do believe in fairies,” Sheppard muttered on a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, look, your highness,” he said with only a touch of scorn. “We happen to like the being that you are currently inhabiting, so there won’t be any removing her brain. We’re just gonna have to find another way.”

“There is no other way,” Ilyria said with a frown. “Over the centuries there have only been a few instances in which my people have cohabited with beings who would not release them. Their extraction was only successful when the host expired.”

_I'm not a freaking carton of milk, people!_ Brady screamed.

“Forget it,” Ronon said. He turned to Carson. “Run a scan. If that thing is in there, we can get it out.”

“Well, not necessarily,” Carson said. “As we've seen with Teyla, there are some links that aren't physical. Just because we find Ilyria's body inside Brady's head doesn't mean Ilyria herself will be there. If she's telepathically linked herself into Brady's consciousness, then...well, I don't know.”

“You said Brady's still in there, right?” Sheppard asked.

“Yes,” Ilyria said. “She is a bothersome sort. Very vocal. No respect for authority.”

“Oh, good. She really is in there,” Sheppard said, relieved.

_Hey!_

“Ask her if she has any ideas on what to do here,” Sheppard said.

_I have no idea. _

“Undoubtedly she can hear you,” Ilyria said. “She says she has no idea. As I have said--”

_Tell him to contact the SGC. Tell him to talk to Sam or Daniel about Ma'chello's transference device. Well? What are you waiting for?_

“Who is this Samor Danyul?” Ilyria asked with a frown.

“Samor Dan—“ Sheppard repeated confusedly. “Sam? Sam or Daniel?”

Ilyria nodded once. “It would seem that this Samor Danyul might have a key to an extraction that would not result in the death of the host. Contact them at once.”

“Ok, I'm getting a little tired of you bossing me around,” Sheppard said. “So I'm gonna send you with Teyla here, and she's gonna get you settled while I go talk to my supervisor and make a call to the SGC.”

_Tell him to mention Ma'chello and the transference device._

“Do not think to order--”

_Do it now, Tinkerbell! _Brady said angrily.

“She said when talking to Samor Danyul to mention Ma'chello and his transference device,” Ilyria said.

“Transference device,” Sheppard said. “Got it.”

He nodded to Teyla, who helped Ilyria from the table. Ronon hovered nearby and the doctors looked around, awaiting instructions. When none were forthcoming, they went back to work at their designated cubicles.

“You are Athosian,” Ilyria said.

“I am,” Teyla affirmed. “You know my people?”

“Of them, yes. Many have been taken by the Wraith.”

“Yes. And are your people threatened by the Wraith?” she asked.

Ilyria smiled. “They do not know of my people. Even if they did, we would be of little use to them.”

_You guys would be like snack crackers,_ Brady said. _Hors d'ouvres de Daegans._

Teyla led her to Brady's quarters. Ilyria looked around, her lip curling in displeasure as she held up a pair of ripped jeans by the belt loop. “Tell me, Athosian. Is there a tailor in your kingdom? If I am to remain in this host until an extraction--”

_There will be no extraction_, Brady reminded her. _We're looking for another way._

“--then I must be allowed new attire. I cannot—nay, will not—present myself in such a manner.”

_What's wrong with my clothes? There's nothing wrong with my clothes. Those are my favorite jeans._

Teyla looked unsure, but smiled politely. “I'll...see what I can do,” she said.

_No, no. Don't see what you can do, Teyla. I'm not wearing any of the ceremonial garb that she has. You can forget it._

“You have little choice in the matter, host,” Ilyria muttered quietly.

“Colonel Sheppard has two soldiers outside, should you need anything,” Teyla said. “Brady, if you can hear me, know that we will sort everything out.”

_Super_, Brady deadpanned.

Teyla left the room and Ilyria looked expectantly at Ronon, waiting for him to follow her. He stared back at her.

“You are dismissed,” she said. He stood still. “Your service is not required at this time,” she tried again. He stood still. “Be gone with you,” she said with a frown. She turned her back, crossing her arms. “Is there a magic word that makes this male leave?” she whispered to Brady.

_He won't go_, she replied. _He belongs to me._

“Oh, I see,” Ilyria said. Unbidden, memories of Brady and Ronon rushed to the forefront of her mind. “Oh...” She turned to look at him, her eyes wide, and she felt her cheeks warm as she blushed.

_Hey! Get outta there! _Brady chided. _Memories are off limits, Queenie._

“What's wrong with you?” he asked suspiciously.

Ilyria cleared her throat. “Nothing,” she lied.

Ronon touched his ear, listening to his radio. He looked back at Ilyria and frowned. “I have to go out for a little while. Stay here. If you try to leave—well, let’s just say I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” he said. He opened the door and told the guards to be watchful.

Teyla arrived a few minutes later with a few of her old dresses. Ilyria examined them, considering the possibilities.

“I'm sure I can do something with them,” she said. Surprisingly, she thanked Teyla before showing her out.

_What are you doing?_ Brady asked as Ilyria held up a long green gown. Brady could see her reflection in the mirror and she didn’t like the look in Ilyria’s eyes as she held the full bodice and long sleeves to her body. _Please keep in mind that you are using my body as a host! Don’t take advantage—_

“Calm yourself,” Ilyria said gently as she leaned closer to the mirror and examined Brady’s face. “If we are to share this body for the next while, should we not attempt to get along?” she asked. She lifted the corner of her eye and then leaned back, dropping the dress to scoop Brady’s long red hair up off her neck. She turned her head to the side, looking thoughtful, before bending to pick up the dress. “Yes, I believe I can work with this,” she said.

_Work with what?_ Brady asked, her voice full of dread. _You’re gonna make me wear a dress, aren’t you?_

“Indeed,” Ilyria said. “And, with my providential crafting, you will be beautiful. Now, where are your paints?”

_Paints_?

Ilyria ran a finger over Brady’s eyelid, smudging the miniscule amount of eyeliner that she wore. “Paints,” she repeated.

_Um...they’re in a kit in the bathroom,_ Brady said. _Look, just take it easy, ok? Don’t go overboard._

“You have my word,” Ilyria said with a smile.

\--

_I hate you._

Ilyria rolled her eyes. “So childish,” she muttered. “There is nothing wrong. This is fashioned from my people. I wear this daily. You must trust me.”

_I look like I should be in the Rocky Horror Picture Show_, Brady lamented, catching another glimpse of her heavy makeup.

Truthfully, it wouldn’t look so bad on another woman. On her, though, it looked out of place. Brady knew she wasn’t a beauty queen, which is why she never really put a lot of effort into her appearance. To see elaborately painted smoldering cat-eyes staring out of her face was just odd.

Ilyria tisked at her and strode across the room, comfortably naked in Brady’s body. She picked up the altered gown and slid into it, reaching around to fasten it just as the doorbell rang.

_Oh my God!_ Brady said as she saw the gown. _You can’t take me out in this!_

“You may enter,” Ilyria called, ignoring her. The doors whooshed open and Lorne stepped inside, stopping short when he saw her.

“Uh...Woolsey an-and Sheppard want to see Brady—uh, _you_ in the uh...in the conference room.”

_See? He’s freaking out. You can’t present me to my people like this._

“Your name is Evan, correct?” Ilyria asked, recalling the name from Brady’s memory. “Evan, would you mind giving your opinion of my attire? It is presentable, is it not?”

Lorne nodded. “Absolutely. You look great, Brady—ma’am.”

She gave a single nod of appreciation and followed him out of the room. “I told you,” she said to Brady. Lorne glanced back at her, but realized she wasn’t addressing him. “Now that I am becoming acclimated to you as a host, I believe you will find that I am not a bad person. Don’t you agree, major?” she asked.

Lorne shrugged and looked at her with a smile. “You seem nice enough to me,” he said. “But then, you aren’t in my body.”

_Plus, you’re a man_, Brady said dismissively. _What do you know?_

“Well, that was a bit rude, Brady,” Ilyria chided. She straightened her shoulders as they approached the conference room.

They arrived at the doors at the same time as Carson, whose mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to get anything out. “Oh dear...” he drawled.

_This is going to be a disaster_, Brady sighed.

“Faith, Brady,” Ilyria said with a smile at Carson. “Allow me to handle this.”

_Like I have a choice?_ Brady retorted.

Lorne opened the door and Ilyria swept into the room, drawing the startled gazes of everyone in attendance. Brady cringed as they looked at her. She could practically feel their eyes on her exposed skin as they looked at the gown. Thankfully, she had left the skirt long and full, but Ilyria had altered the bodice so that it resembled more of a Grecian cut. She did away with the sleeves completely and took a piece out of the middle of both the front and back, opening it so that it looked, Brady thought, like wide suspenders covering her boobs. She tied a strip of material beneath her breasts, giving the dress an empire waist that only drew more attention to her ample bosom.

“Well,” Sheppard said. “You look, uh...different.”

Ronon turned an accusatory look at Teyla. She shook her head. “The gown did not look like that when I gave it to her,” she said.

“I think she looks nice,” Woolsey said. “What?” he asked when Ronon whipped his head around to look at him. “I mean, I can’t be the only one to think it’s nice to see Dr. Thatcher dressed up a little.”

_Oh, shut up,_ Brady muttered.

“Are we to examine me further or would you like to conduct this meeting?” Ilyria asked.

“Your Highness, I’m Richard Woolsey, head of the Atlantis expedition,” Woolsey said. “We’ve contacted our people regarding the device Dr. Thatcher mentioned. Unfortunately, there are certain channels that we must go through in order to acquire it, so it is going to take some time.”

_Well, crap,_ Brady said.

“How much time?” Ilyria asked.

“A few weeks, at minimum,” Woolsey said.

_A few weeks?_

“I’m afraid that is unacceptable,” she said. “I must get back to my people.”

_And I must get control back of my body_.

“Isn’t there someone who can take over for you for that time?” Sheppard asked. “Like a second in command or something?”

“I suppose I could deliver a message to Platus, my advisor. He could stand in my stead for the time being.”

“Well there ya go,” Sheppard said. “Problem solved.”

_What happens if the device doesn’t work?_

“Colonel Sheppard, Brady has just raised a good point. If the device doesn’t work, what then?”

“Then we keep looking,” Ronon said. “McKay will be back from that conference thing on Earth before you know it. He and Cadman shared a body once. He'll figure something out.”

_But how long do we have?_ Brady asked. _When McKay and Cadman shared a body, they started to die after a while. We can’t stay like this forever._

“The answer is simple, in that case,” Ilyria said. Everyone looked at her in confusion, but she spoke only to Brady, not looking at anyone in particular. “I am a leader. My people need me. If time starts to run out and both of our existences become endangered, a traditional extraction must be done.”

_Meaning you whack me in the head and I die? I don’t think so._

“That’s not an option,” Ronon said.

“I have responsibilities that you could not possibly comprehend,” Ilyria said, growing agitated. “If our consciousnesses can be separated without harming Brady, then that is wonderful news. However, I cannot and will not risk the future of my people because you cannot find it in yourselves to let her go. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have a say in this,” Ronon said, standing. “If the choice comes down to you or Brady, the answer is gonna be Brady every time.”

“Let’s just calm down,” Woolsey said. “Ilyria, if you can get word to your people, please do so. You have to understand that, as a ruler, I can’t let you leave while Dr. Thatcher is your host.”

Ilyria frowned and gave a nod, but understood his position. “Very well,” she said.

“I guess that’s it then, for now,” Woolsey said, standing.

_Wait. Tell him I have an idea I want to discuss._

“What idea?” Ilyria asked.

“I’m sorry?” Woolsey asked. Ilyria held up a finger.

_If we gate to the edge of Pegasus, then the Daedalus can pick us up and drop us at the edge of our galaxy and we can gate to the SGC. Like Jeannie did when McKay was sick, only in reverse._

“I do not understand,” Ilyria said.

_They will_, Brady assured her.

The queen sighed and relayed the message. Sheppard looked hopeful.

“That might work,” he said. “The Daedalus is only a few days out. We can get a message to them, have them pick us up...it wouldn’t take over three days to get between galaxies.” He looked at Woolsey, who looked long and hard at Ilyria. Finally, he nodded.

“Make the call,” Woolsey said.

“Colonel, if you’re to use the transference device, you’ll need Ilyria’s body as well,” Carson pointed out. He looked at the woman. “Where would we find it, dear?”

Ilyria sighed again and turned her head to the side, brushing back a strand of hair and exposing Brady’s ear.

“Come with me to the infirmary,” Carson said, standing. “We’ll get you out of there and into something for transport.”

“Like what?” Sheppard asked dubiously. “A matchbox?”

_Spare us the sarcasm, Shep_, Brady said doggedly. _You have to trust Carson, Ilyria. He won’t do anything to hurt you._

“Very well,” Ilyria said, standing as well. “I will go with you.”

\--

_I never sleep on my back, _Brady said with a sigh.

“Well I _only_ sleep on my back,” Ilyria said. “Go to sleep or be silent, Brady.” Ilyria heard the door open and jerked her head around. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded as Ronon entered.

He stopped removing his holster and frowned at her. “These are my quarters.”

She sat up in bed, bringing the blanket up to cover her chest. “Not anymore, it isn't. Leave at once!”

_You can't make him leave_, Brady said.

“I most certainly can,” Ilyria argued.

“Most certainly can what?” Ronon asked.

“Make you leave,” Ilyria said. “I insist you make your bed elsewhere.”

“Not gonna happen,” Ronon said. “Look, you want to boss everybody around like a queen having court, fine by me. If the others fall in line, that's their business. But Brady is mine, and wherever she is, I am. You might as well get used to me, your highness,” he said scornfully, dropping his gun onto a chair.

_I told you. The man has a stubborn streak a mile wide,_ Brady said.

“Oh, very well,” Ilyria said with a huff. She tossed a blanket toward him and flopped over onto her side, facing away from him.

–

_Seriously, Ilyria, you’re killing me with these dresses_, Brady sighed as the warm wind blew dust against her legs.

The flaps of the modified outfit’s skirt parted and fluttered in the wind, leaving Brady’s pale legs vulnerable to the sun all the way up to her thighs. Thankfully, the queen had left most of the bodice intact, ridding the dress only of its sleeves. It was unlucky, of course, that Teyla wasn’t as busty as Brady, and hence the dress didn’t cling to the Athosian the same way. Still, snug and covered was much better than having her girls on display like the Stanley Cup.

“Daedelus, this is Sheppard. We've arrived on P3S-485 and are awaiting beam.” Sheppard lowered his gun and looked around at the rocky desert canyon that housed the stargate on that planet.

“Doesn't look like much,” Ronon commented.

_Kinda looks like Monument Valley,_ Brady said. _Is that John Wayne on the horizon? Hahaha._

“Who is this John Wayne?” Ilyria asked, shielding her eyes and peering toward the horizon. “I see no one.”

_I was kidding. John Wayne’s a—just forget it_, Brady mumbled. _Sheppard woulda thought it was funny._

Before Ilyria could chide Brady for being sulky, a beam of white light engulfed the crew. She stumbled as they rematerialized onboard the Daedelus and would have fallen to her knees if not for the strong hands that seized her bare arms. Rather than jerk away from Ronon’s rough grasp, Ilyria absorbed the pleasant tingle that shivered through her host body.

_Cut that out,_ Brady reprimanded.

“It's rather nice though, isn't it?” Ilyria breathed. Ronon's brows furrowed in confusion.

“That one-sided thing is really annoying,” Sheppard muttered.

“I agree,” Ronon said, releasing Ilyria.

“Colonel Sheppard. Glad you made it on board,” Colonel Caldwell said, stepping up to the team. He looked at Ilyria with a frown. “Corporal,” he said to a young soldier beside him. “Please escort Dr. Thatcher to confinement.”

“What?” Ronon demanded, stepping in front of Ilyria.

_Confinement? _Brady screeched._ Caldwell, you son of a-- _ She broke into a tirade, pulling out every curse she could think of in six different languages.

“I do not understand,” Ilyria said, looking at Caldwell. She felt her cool façade slipping and nervously gripped her skirt. “Brady is angry and not making sense. Ronon? Explain.”

“He wants to lock you up,” Ronon said, his fingers twitching near his blaster.

“Whoa, whoa. Just hold on,” Sheppard said, placing a hand on Ronon's shoulder. He stepped between him and Caldwell. “She doesn't need to be in confinement.”

“Colonel Sheppard, this isn't Atlantis and I am not some civilian commander. What I say on this vessel goes, and—call it a touchy subject—but anything that takes over an unwilling host gets treated as a possible threat.”

“Ronon, step aside,” Sheppard said coldly, his eyes all but shooting flame as he held Caldwell's glare.

_Dammit, Shep._

“Where is this man taking me?” Ilyria asked, her panic building as the young Corporal reached for her arm. Her wild eyes landed on Ronon and he tensed, taking a threatening step forward.

_Ronon, don't! _Brady gasped.

“I wouldn't--” Sheppard began. He cursed when the soldier took hold of Ilyria's arm and Ronon's fist shot out, clipping the man in the jaw with enough force to have him sprawling on the ground. Sheppard shoved his way into the swarm of personnel that clustered around Ronon and Ilyria.

“That's enough!” Caldwell shouted. “You people get back to your stations. Sheppard, get your man to the barracks and get Thatcher to the confinement bay. Dex, keep your hands off my crew.”

“As long as they keep their hands off Brady,” Ronon said defiantly, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking beside Sheppard.

_Ugh, you are such an overbearing, sexist, hotheaded caveman!_ Brady ranted at Ronon. She lowered her voice, mimicking his deep timbre. _Oo, me big tough man. Me gonna pound random people because they touch my poor helpless woman._

Ilyria chuckled. “It is only because he cares for you that he behaves in such a manner,” she said with a smile. Sheppard sighed and Ronon cut his eyes at her. “No one is addressing either of you,” she said sternly, lifting her chin. “If you don't want to hear my side of this conversation, stop attempting to listen to everything I say.”

“Relax,” Sheppard said. He stopped outside a door and it opened, revealing rows of bunkbeds. “Ronon, pick a spot. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“You aren’t really taking her to confinement, are you?” Ronon asked.

“Well, what do you suggest I do? Caldwell’s right. This is his vessel. And, you gotta admit, he’s got a good reason to be paranoid when it comes to...body snatchers,” he said, waving a hand toward Ilyria.

“Fine,” Ronon said, picking up his pack.

Brady sighed. _What is he doing?_

“What are you doing?” Sheppard asked.

“I’m not leaving her by herself,” Ronon answered.

_Tell him we’ll be fine,_ Brady said.

“I do not like this,” Ilyria said, ignoring her. “I am a queen. I demand—“

“Oh, here we go with the demanding again. Look, lady,” Sheppard said. “I think all-in-all we’ve been pretty damn genial about all this, so you can take all your demands and better-than-thou attitude, and stick ‘em where the sun don’t shine.”

“Genial?” Ilyria hissed. “_Genial_? Since I’ve been here, I’ve been manhandled, ordered about, poked, prodded, and humiliated time and again. And to make matters worse—if possible—I have this grating voice of disdain in my head at all times!” she said, gripping her temples.

_And I remind you again: it isn’t your head_, Brady said.

“So, Colonel, forgive me if I seem less than grateful to you and your..._caveman_ for the way I’ve been treated!” she said hotly, using Brady’s word from earlier.

Sheppard’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Ronon, who looked ready to throttle the queen regardless of the fact that she was in Brady’s body.

_Look, I’m sorry for the way this is going down,_ Brady said_. Just...just tell him we’ll be ok and let’s go_.

“We will be fine alone,” Ilyria said, stepping aside so that Sheppard could lead the way to the confinement bay. She looked at Ronon. “_Brady_ will be fine,” she clarified before sweeping from the room.

\--

_...then the boy, Phillipe, goes into the room and sees the woman laying with an arrow wound—_

“No!” Ilyria gasped.

_Yeah,_ Brady said. _So the old priest, Imperius, comes in and tells Phillipe that __Navarre was once the captain of the guard in Aquila, and the woman loved him. The evil Bishop wanted Isabeau—that’s the girl—for himself, so he cursed the lovers with black magic, making Navarre a wolf by night and Isabeau a hawk by day. _

“Oh, how awful,” Ilyria said sadly.

_It turns out ok though, after the customary turmoil,_ Brady assured her_. They break the curse and beat the bad guy._

“Brady, you are a wonderfully gifted storyteller,” Ilyria praised with a smile. “My people will love to hear that tale when we’ve been set to rights.”

It was the first time Ilyria had alluded to the fact that they might both make it out of this ordeal with their own bodies and brains intact, so Brady took it as a good sign.

The door to her confinement cell opened and Ronon entered carrying a tray of food. He had been in at least three times a day since she’d been locked up, though Brady doubted all of his visits were Caldwell-sanctioned. He sat on the edge of the bunk on which she was laying, passing the tray to Ilyria when she sat up. The fact that she didn’t immediately scoot to put more distance between them was another good sign, proving that she had developed some level of trust. She did, however, sigh when she examined the contents of the tray.

“How are your people still alive?” she asked as she picked up a chicken nugget and sniffed it.

Ronon shrugged. “If you don’t want it, don’t eat it,” he said, picking up a French fry and biting it in half.

_Eat it_, Brady begged_. Please please please please...You’ll like it. Seriously, if you have him bring us another salad I’m gonna go insane. My body needs meat and...and...fried crunchy things!_

Ilyria lifted the nugget to her lips and took a tentative bite. She gave a surprised hum and took a bigger bite, chewing happily. “It does not taste bad,” she admitted with a nod. “Brady said as much yesterday, but I ignored her. I apologize for that,” she said, picking up another. She ate the rest of the food with gusto.

“What’s it like?” Ronon asked suddenly, waving a hand toward her. “Having another person in there with you?”

“At times, it is infuriating,” Ilyria said.

_You’re tellin’ me_.

“But sometimes—and I believe it is a testament to Brady’s personality—sometimes it is...nice. She entertains me and keeps me from going mad while we are locked in here.”

_Aww_, Brady said. _You aren’t so bad yourself, once you drop the attitude._

“We’ll be in gating distance from Earth sometime tomorrow,” Ronon said. “We’ll get you sorted then.” He reached over and cupped her chin, lifting her face so that he could look into her eyes.

_I know you will,_ Brady said, and then she sighed. _He can't hear me._

“She..._we_ know you will,” Ilyria said quietly. Her eyes fluttered closed as Ronon gently stroked her cheek. Brady’s memories flooded her. Images of those large, strong hands petting and stroking, igniting her body in ways--

_OFF LIMITS! _Brady shouted.

Ilyria's eyes popped wide and Ronon jerked his hand away as if he just realized it wasn't actually Brady he was comforting. He cleared his throat and stood.

“I'll be back later,” he said gruffly. “You want anything?”

“I don't suppose a stroll about the ship is in the question?” Ilyria asked dryly.

“If it was up to me...” Ronon shrugged. “But 'fraid not.”

_Ask him to bring me some grape juice,_ Brady said.

Ilyria relayed the message and Ronon frowned. “Why grape juice?”

_I don’t know. I just want some. And make sure it is cold._

“She just wishes to have some,” Ilyria said. “Go on now. I grow tired,” she said, faking a yawn. “Return later and bring juice. Ooh, and more nuggets.”

Ronon looked as if he wanted to stay, but after a moment of indecision, picked up the empty tray and left the room.

–

The Daedelus reached the edge of the Milky Way and beamed Sheppard, Ronon, and Ilyria onto the first friendly planet with a gate.

“Good luck, Colonel,” Caldwell said. “We’ll see you in a few days. Daedelus out.”

“Well, ladies and gents,” Sheppard said, waving a hand toward the stargate. “Shall we?” He dialed Earth on the DHD and sent his IDC through.

“This ring is much more primitive than the one in your kingdom,” Ilyria said as the gate rotated and dialed.

_Yeah, well. Compared to Atlantis, this side of the universe is a little tacky,_ Brady said. _Hope you weren’t expecting anything spectacular._

Ilyria gave a ‘hmph’ and moved to stand between Ronon and Sheppard.

“SGA Alpha, this is Landry. You’re clear for arrival.”

Ilyria’s eyes widened and she took a reflexive step back as a voice emitted from the wormhole.

_It’s ok_, Brady said. Sheppard put a hand at her back to stay her retreat.

“We need to go that way,” he said with a smile, pointing toward the gate.

Ilyria nodded and straightened her shoulders, jutting her chin and walking determinedly into the event horizon. She stopped on the other side, her heart pounding until Sheppard and Ronon appeared at her side.

_You’re really afraid, aren’t you? _Brady asked sympathetically. Ilyria’s chin went a little higher. _Look, it’s gonna be fine, ok? Trust me_.

“I have little choice now, do I?” Ilyria whispered.

“Colonel, welcome back,” Landry said, entering the gateroom and shaking Sheppard’s hand. “Ronon,” he said, doing the same with the Satedan. He turned his attention to Ilyria. “Well, Mr. Woolsey didn’t exactly give me all the details and Caldwell...well, we know how Caldwell is,” he said, glancing at Sheppard. “So the immediate question, I suppose, is what I need to do with you until I get fully apprised of the situation.”

_Ok, just say what I say. Say, ‘General, I pose no threat to you or your facility. If—_

Ilyria held Landry’s gaze and interrupted Brady’s coaching. “I have been in an isolated chamber for days,” she said, her voice cold. “I am a peaceful being, but if you attempt to hold me as if I am some sort of common criminal, I will retaliate.”

_What are you doing? _Brady demanded. _You’re supposed to be nice! Remember? We talked about this._

Landry took a step toward her and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t respond well to threats,” he said.

“I demand—“

Landry smiled coolly. “I don’t respond well to demands either,” he interjected.

“Well then you’re really not gonna like her much,” Sheppard said. “Sir, if I can just put my two cents in,” he asked and Landry nodded. “Ilyria isn’t a threat. Behavior wise, she’s kind of a nightmare—“

“I beg your pardon!”

_Tactful, Shep,_ Brady said dryly.

“—but she’s virtually harmless.”

Landry looked thoughtful, taking a deep breath as he eyed Ilyria, but finally nodded. “Alright then. Ronon, would you mind escorting our guest? Why don’t you drop off your bags in the barracks? Dr. Jackson is waiting for Brady.”

“Who is this Dr. Jackson?” Ilyria asked.

_Daniel is great. Just don’t try to be all high-and-mighty, ok? That’s the fastest way to piss people off around here,_ Brady said.

“Dr. Daniel Jackson,” General Landry said, answering Ilyria. “He’s—“

“Nevermind,” Ilyria said, holding up a hand. She gave a small smile and tapped her temple. “Brady explained. But thank you for the effort,” she added.

“Brady is inside your head?” Landry asked.

“Yeah, we should probably go to that briefing now,” Sheppard said. Landry nodded. Sheppard looked at Ronon. “Behave yourself. Both of you.”

Ronon attempted a ‘who me?’ look and Brady snorted.

“Why does he think you will not behave yourself?” Ilyria asked as Ronon led her down a long hallway.

“I don’t exactly have the best record with these people,” Ronon admitted.

_Ha! Understatement of the year._

“Explain,” she said. Since she just looked curious, Ronon chose to receive the order as a request.

“The doers around here—like Landry—are ordered around by planners.”

_Oh, here we go..._ Brady muttered.

“The planners don’t do anything but sit in offices bigger than my quarters, planning things to do in case of this or that. The doers, meanwhile, are doing what the planners plan before they plan it. Either that, or they do what needs to be done that the planners wouldn’t even consider because they aren’t smart enough to think of it,” Ronon finished.

He opened the door to the guest barracks and dropped his bags on one of the bunks, taking care to gently lay the one that held Ilryia’s packed body. He opened that case and removed the clear box that contained the tiny form.

“Please do be careful!” Ilyria said, reaching for the box. She took it gingerly and lifted it so that she could examine her body. She sighed in relief. “Everything looks fine.”

_You’re kinda cute when you aren’t flying in my ear and stuff_, Brady said. Ilyria’s people looked like tiny humans, but with more elfin features.

Ilyria passed the box back to Ronon, who put it in a locker. “Should we not give it to the healer for safekeeping?” she asked.

“I don’t know them,” he said with a shrug. He locked the padlock and tugged. “You’ll be safe in there.” He glanced at the door as it opened.

“Oh, Brady!” Vala said, rushing inside and engulfing Ilyria in a hug. “You poor dear, you must be worried sick,” she said.

_Not overmuch_, Brady admitted.

“We’ll get you put to rights in no time. Sam’s offworld, so it’s just us girls again and we must stick together. What are you wearing?” Vala ceased her maternal soothing and held Ilyria’s arms out by her side, examining the dress she wore. She eyed the deep plunge of the neckline and the smoky makeup with approval. “Oh, I see. This is the squatter’s doing, eh?” Vala said, planting her hands on her hips. Her eyes swung around and landed on Ronon, and she gave him a big smile. “Well, hello again.”

_She might try for disapproval, but she loves your style,_ Brady told Ilyria, amused.

Ilyria looked taken aback by the strange woman’s affection and sudden distraction. She turned her head as more people entered and took a step back.

_Relax,_ Brady said soothingly. _They’re friends._

“They’re _your_ friends,” Ilyria said. “They see me as an interloper.”

_Ok, so the rundown: the woman was Vala. She’s the newest member of the team here. The big guy is Teal’c. He comes in now and then to check on things, but he’s kinda like an ambassador now. Anyway, the one eyeing us like something fascinating under a microscope is Dr. Daniel Jackson_.

“Why is he staring at us?” Ilyria whispered, locking her gaze on Daniel.

“Incredible,” Daniel said, taking a step toward her. “You and Brady are both really in there, aren’t you?”

_Oh, for God’s sakes Daniel. It’s not the first time somebody’s been possessed by an alien, and I can pretty much guarantee it won’t be the last_, Brady said irritably.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on in here?” Mitchell said, shoving his way into the crowd. He looked at Ilyria and his eyebrows flew up. “Wow. Brady you look...kinda hot.”

_He won’t be looking so chipper when Ronon beats his face loose,_ she muttered.

Ilyria raised her hands and took another step backward. “Enough,” she said. “Yes, I am in Brady’s control center. Yes, Brady is with me. No, I was not aware that I would be unable to leave. Yes, I am absolutely ready to get back into my own body. And no, I do not carry pixie dust, which is something I am not certain I understand, but have been asked by three different soldiers. Now, if there is nothing else, please, I would like to be excused from this room and stretch my legs.”

_Nicely done!_ Brady said. _Firm, yet polite. If I had hands, I would applaud you_.

Ilyria’s lips curved slightly as she strode from the room. She heard footfalls behind her and looked over her shoulder. Ronon and Teal’c, followed a few steps behind. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned back around. “You need not follow me every step,” she said.

“General Landry would be unhappy if you were to try to escape the facility,” Teal’c said. “And I would be unhappy if your poor judgment harmed Brady in any way.”

“Everyone is so concerned for Brady,” Ilyria said. “What about me?” she asked, swinging around to face them. “Not one of you humans, other than Brady, has showed even the slightest concern for the fact that _I_ am trapped in here as well! If this device of yours does not put me to rights, what then?” She turned on her heel and continued walking. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I stay in here until eventually one of us dies. If it is I, well then huzzah for all of you. If it is Brady, then I have the pleasure of staying a prisoner on Atlantis until this host body dies.”

“Well, now, you could always stay a prisoner here if you’d rather.”

Ilyria whirled to look at whoever spoke, intent on giving a vicious tongue-lashing.

_Jack!_ Brady said happily as Ilyria looked at the silver-haired man standing between Ronon and Teal’c. _Ilyria, we’re so totally saved. Jack can fix anything._

“He does not look so special,” Ilyria said. “Just like all of the other..._planners_ I’ve seen around this place.”

“Is she talking to...” Jack asked, looking confusedly at Ronon. 

“She’s talking to Brady,” Ronon said, moving to walk beside Ilyria. “It’s annoying, but you get used to it.”

“Ah. Right,” Jack said. “Well, Thatcher, you’ve gotten yourself into a real mess this time,” he said. “Let’s go see if we can fix it. Where’s Daniel?”

“I believe he is with Vala,” Teal’c said.

Jack gave a noncommittal grunt. “So,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go see Landry and get this thing going.”

“You have the device?” Ronon asked.

“Well, it’s on its way,” Jack answered, stepping ahead of Ilyria. “God, it is so nice to be doing something!” he said. “You have no idea.”

“I thought you were the big leader or whatever of some security thing,” Ronon said.

_Ah, Ronon, so attentive to details_, Brady said sarcastically. Ilyria smiled, but remained silent.

“Head of Department of Homeworld Security,” Jack said. “Sounds thrilling, huh? Well it’s not. You’d be surprised how much of the crap that comes through here never even makes it to my office. I get a call after the fact. Few months ago I got out for a Tok’ra extraction ceremony.”

“Sounds exciting,” Ronon said, uninterested.

“The cake was crap,” Jack grumbled. He entered the conference room just as Sheppard and Landry stood. “General, how’s it going?” Jack asked, shaking the other man’s hand. “Ready for me to come back yet?”

“Been quiet around here, Jack,” Landry said. “Carter’s running things getting a new colony started along the outer rim, Teal’c has his duties to his people...hell, if it wasn’t for Vala, this place would be downright boring.”

“Lies and propaganda,” Jack said. “Still, what do we know about Thatcher’s little issue here?”

“Excuse me,” Ilyria said coolly. “But I am not an ‘issue’. I am a qu—“

“Queen among your people. Yeah, believe us, we know,” Sheppard interrupted. “She’s a little touchy,” he said to Jack.

“You would be touchy too if you were stuck in a host who complains about everything you do, from the clothes you wear to what you eat,” Ilyria said. “No offense, Brady, darling.”

_None taken, I don’t guess_.

“I am royal by birth,” Ilyria continued, getting worked up. “I was raised in a palace. My people love me,” she said, sniffing back tears. Her eyes burned and her vision blurred.

_Oh, don’t cry!_ Brady said_. Don’t cry, don’t cry._

“I’m sorry, but I was not made to be ordered about and treated as if I am some infectious disease.” Her voice rose with every word until she was essentially squeaking incoherently. “I just want to go home!” she wailed. The tears fell, leaving stark black trails down her cheeks as they smudged her makeup.

_It’s ok. Don’t cry,_ Brady said, panicking. _Look what you did!_ she shouted at the men, who now looked as horrified as she felt.

“Ronon,” Sheppard said pointedly.

“What?”

“Do something,” Sheppard said, waving a hand toward Ilyria as she collapsed into a chair and put her head on the table, sobbing loudly.

“Well, what the hell do you want me to do?” Ronon asked. “Pretty much the only time Brady cries is if she is so mad she wants to kick my ass.”

“General,” Teal’c said. “You are father to a daughter.”

“Maybe Vala should talk to her,” Landry said. He sighed as Teal’c held his gaze. He moved to stand beside Ilyria and patted her back. “There, there,” he said awkwardly.

“Here’s an idea,” Jack said. “Why doesn’t _Thatcher_ talk to her?”

_Gee, thanks Jack,_ Brady muttered. _Ilyria, listen. You’re really emotional right now and you need to calm down._

“It isn’t my fault,” Ilyria snuffled. “It’s your stupid body! I’m not used to such high doses of these hormones!”

_Ok, I don’t know what that means,_ Brady admitted. _But we’ll be fixed in no time. By tomorrow night you’ll be you and I’ll be me. I’ll buy you a drink in the cantina before we head back home. How’s that sound?_

Ilyria hiccupped and held her breath, trying to calm herself down. She sniffed and accepted the tissue General Landry held out to her.

“Why don’t you go on to the barracks and clean up. Maybe take a little nap?” he suggested.

She nodded and stood, surprised when Ronon placed a comforting hand at her back and ushered her back to the barracks. He was silent the whole way, but Ilyria and Brady were both comforted by his presence. Brady wouldn’t admit it, but now that D-Day was drawing near, she was starting to get nervous. What if Ma’chello’s device didn’t work? What would they do? How long would she and Ilyria continue to exist in the same body?

Ilyria stopped and placed a hand on her stomach. Ronon frowned. “Are you alright?”

She tried for a smile and nodded. “Yes. I suppose Brady is anxious,” she said.

_What’s going on? Brady asked. I didn’t feel anything._

“I am fine,” she assured them. “But a short rest would be nice.”

“Want me to sit in here with you?” he asked.

Ilyria shook her head. “Thank you for the offer,” she said. He turned to leave but she called him back. “Ronon, I would like to apologize for my behavior toward you when we first met. I understand now that it was concern for your mate that made you so hostile.”

Ronon blinked at her a couple of times before the corner of his mouth lifted in a reluctant half-smile. “Apology accepted,” he said before turning and exiting the barracks.

Ilyria lay down on the bunk and moved onto her side, tucking her arm under her pillow.

_Thank you_, Brady said.

Ilyria smiled. “Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I sleep more comfortably like this. It must be because of your body.”

_Get some sleep, Ilyria. I doubt we’ll miss anything interesting._

Ilyria yawned. “How soon will we be able to undergo the transference?”

_Sometime tomorrow, most likely. Maybe sooner._

Ilyria nodded and closed her eyes, drifting into a deep sleep. Brady was restless and couldn’t sleep. Ilyria’s soft breathing stirred a lock of hair and it fell across her face, tickling her nose. Brady brushed it aside with a huff, and then froze. She gasped and opened her eyes.

_She_ opened her eyes!

She could move!

Brady sat up slowly and ran a hand over her face. She was back! She was really back! But where was Ilyria? Her excited smile slid from her face and she closed her eyes, feeling for the queen. She knew she was still with her, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. Her brain felt...full. However, since Ilyria was dormant—sleeping deep and peacefully—it must have relinquished control of Brady’s brain long enough for her to slip back into the cockpit.

She threw her legs over the bed and tried not to get tangled up in Ilyria’s stupid skirt. She hurried from the room, eager to find someone—anyone—before Ilyria woke up. She rounded the corner and slammed into Mitchell and Daniel.

“Cam! Daniel!”

“Ilyria, are you alright?” Daniel asked, his brow furrowing in concern. “Colonel Sheppard said you were sleeping.”

“It’s me! I’m me again!” Brady said, clasping a hand to her chest.

Mitchell followed the movement and arched a brow, then shook himself. “Brady?”

She nodded. “I don’t know what happened. I guess since she’s sleeping and I wasn’t, I was able to take over again.” She grabbed the men and hugged them. “Omigod, I thought I was gonna be stuck in the passenger’s seat forever! Where’s Jack?”

“He’s signing off on the delivery,” Daniel said. “The truck carrying Ma’chello’s device just got here. It should be out of inspection and ready to boot up in a few hours. Brady, how are we going to ensure that you are the one that stays in your body?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Cam said. “Doesn’t that thing just kinda ping-pong people around?”

“You and Ilyria can only use it once,” Daniel reminded her.

“We’ll have to do it like you guys did back in the day,” Brady said. She felt a stirring in her head and placed a hand to her temple. “I think she’s waking up,” she said. She winced as pain shot through her head. “Round up some volunteers, boys. If I get sent to Fairytopia, it’s up to you guys to shuffle around until we’re us again.” She closed her eyes and grunted in pain, and when she opened them again, her expression settled into confusion.

“What—“

_It’s my fault,_ Brady said, interrupting Ilyria’s question. _You were sleeping and I took a stroll. Sorry._

Cam and Daniel looked at each other, then at Ilryia. “Uh...are you ok?” Daniel asked. She nodded once. “So, good news,” he said with a smile. “Uh, the device has arrived on base, so it’s just a matter of hours now before you’ll be...you again.”

“Lovely,” Ilyria said, her voice a whisper. She cleared her throat. “I'm sorry, but I need to...”

_Are you alright? _Brady asked.

“I am fine, Brady,” Ilyria said quietly. She tried for a smile but failed.

_Uh, you know I can tell you're lying, right?_

Ilyria sighed and slumped against the wall.

“Whoa, hold on now,” Cam said, catching her before her knees buckled. “Get Sheppard and Ronon,” he said to Daniel as he scooped the woman into his arms and headed toward the infirmary.

_What's going on?_ Brady asked, worried. _Ilyria?_

Cam looked down at her as she rested her head against his shoulder. Ilyria raised her eyes to his as she tried to catch her breath. The fun, flirty playboy was gone and in his place was a serious soldier who was concerned for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she said weakly.

“Yeah, well,” Mitchell said dismissively. “Don't get used to it. Brady's spoiled enough without having everybody carry her ass around.”

_If I weren't freaking out over you, I'd have you smack him,_ Brady said to Ilyria. _What’s happening?_

“I believe I am fading away,” she answered. “I was awake earlier, Brady. It just took a moment for me to resurface.”

“We’re almost to the infirmary,” Mitchell said. “Just hang on.”

Ilyria gave him a small smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Cam kicked the door to the infirmary open and sat Ilyria on a table.

“What’s going on?” Dr. Lam asked as she stepped over. “Oh, is this the alien that took over Thatcher’s body?”

_No, nimrod. It’s my twin sister. _

“Am I sensing animosity?” Ilyria asked.

“No,” Dr. Lam said, thinking Ilyria was addressing her. “In my opinion, someone taking over Thatcher’s brain is a step in the right direction,” she said, shining a light into Ilyria’s eyes. “At least now someone’s using it.”

_Oh-ho-ho, look who’s being petty_, Brady chirped._ She’s just mad because Daniel cancelled their one and only date to come help me out of a jam._

“Ok,” Mitchell said slowly. “I’m gonna go see what’s taking Jackson so long.”

“I have found Brady to be a very intelligent being,” Ilyria said when Mitchell was gone. She watched the doctor as she circled her with her instruments. “Perhaps it is _you_ who is in need of higher brain function,” she said with a smug smile.

_Zing!_ Brady laughed_. Queenie, one. Dr. Lame, zero. It’s nice to see I’m rubbing off on you a little, your highness_.

“I am a doctor,” Lam said hotly. “Believe me, I am far more intelligent than—“

“Brady is also a doctor, though not a healer. But if memory serves, she was much younger than you when she became one.”

Lam leaned in close, eying Ilyria icily. “I can have you locked in a cell so fast it’ll make your head spin. My father is the commander of the SGC.”

_As if Landry would do something because his bitchy daughter wanted him to? Please. She’s totally bluffing, and it isn’t even a good one._

Ilyria straightened. “Dr. Lam, I suggest you save the haughty threats for someone who can see them through. I am a queen, dear one,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “It is my duty to be able to know when people pose a threat. You’ve said your piece, you’ve made your stand, and I have read it to be...what is the word you use, Brady? Ah, I remember. I have read it to be bullshit. Now, good day Dr. Lam.”

Lam stood with her mouth agape, but made no move when Ilyria slid from the bed and strode toward the exit with her head held high. She opened the door and stepped through, nearly colliding with Cam, Sheppard, and Ronon.

“Are you ok?” Ronon asked, stepping in front of the others and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Is Brady alright?”

“We are all fine for now,” Ilyria said. “But I fear we must hurry this transference along. I can feel myself weakening,” she said, looking at Sheppard.

“Daniel and General O’Neill are working a little magic right now,” Mitchell said. “We should be up and running shortly.”

Ilyria nodded. Sheppard chewed his lip and cleared his throat. “Well, uh, we’ve got good news. Daniel worked out a pattern for the transferences so that you'll be back to yourself with no problem. There’s no shortage of volunteers for what Cam here calls Operation Ping Pong. You got us,” he said, waving a finger at the three of them. “Plus Daniel and General O'Neill signed on as stand-bys.”

“Vala said she’d do it, but then she backed out,” Mitchell said. “She didn’t like the idea of anyone else being in her body. I guess it’s a sensitive thing when you’re a Goa’uld host for an extended period of time,” he added with a smile.

“Why don’t we head down to the barracks and pick up your body,” Ronon suggested.

_It’s almost over,_ Brady said. _We’re almost there, Ilyria._

“Let us hope I can make it,” Ilyria said with a sad smile. She gasped as Ronon picked her up and carried her down the hallway, followed by Sheppard. Mitchell went back to the lab where the transference would take place.

_Cam’s right. I could get used to this_, Brady said with a chuckle as Ronon’s arms tightened around her.

\--

In the lab, the crew stood in a circle, looking at one another and trying to ignore the awkward silence. What was someone supposed to say in this situation? ‘Hey, sorry I ate all those burritos for lunch’? Or maybe, ‘FYI, I really have to pee’? In the grand collection of SGC shenanigans, Brady couldn’t remember ever having the choice to give up your body to someone else. The device sat in the middle of the circle, waiting for the first two body switchers.

_So...we doing this thing, or what?_ she asked impatiently. _You’re not feeling so good, queenie._

Ilyria was leaning against the edge of a table, perched on the end. She tried to catch her breath, but couldn’t quite seem to succeed. “Brady, I—“ Ilyria’s sentence dropped as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

The room became a flurry of activity as Daniel and Ronon ran to her side. As Ronon rolled her over, Brady’s eyes opened and she gasped.

“Ronon!”

“I’m here,” he said, his face creased with worry.

“We have to hurry,” Brady said, struggling to push herself to her feet. Ronon and Daniel helped her up and she crossed to the device. “Put her body on the handle,” she ordered Sheppard. He opened the transport container and gingerly laid the little body on the device.

“Now what?” he asked, looking at Daniel.

“Grip it like you’re riding a Sea-Doo,” Jack instructed Brady, miming the action.

Brady took a deep breath and chewed her lip. She clenched her eyes shut and gripped the handle of the device, bracing for lightning or some other dramatic element. When nothing happened, she opened one eye, peering around the room. Everyone stood still looking at her and her shoulders slumped.

“It didn’t work?” she asked.

“Brady?” Mitchell asked, squinting at her. “Is that you in there?”

“Yeah, it’s still me. I don’t think—“

“Her pulse is pretty faint,” Sheppard said from across the room. Brady turned to look at him. “You’d better get another switch going, fast.”

Realization hit her like a slap in the face. Brady held up her hands—her tiny, golden, _glowing_ hands. She was in Ilyria’s body! The device worked!

Well, sort of, she thought. She watched as Cam stepped up to the plate.

“Ok,” he said, twisting his neck. “Let’s do this.” He took hold of the handle and before Brady could close her eyes, she had the oddest sensation of being pulled across the room.

She could see Ilyria’s body glowing with life across from her. The little figure stood, dusted her hands off, and crossed her arms over her chest. She could see the mouth moving, but the words were too faint to hear. Brady rounded the device and gently scooped Cam into her hand, handing him to Teal’c.

“Hold this,” she said. She cleared her throat and shook her head. “Bizarre,” she muttered as Mitchell’s voice came out. She turned back to the device and gripped the handle. “Ok, babe. You're next.”

Ronon frowned and stepped up to the device. “Don't call me that while you're in Mitchell's body, please. It's weird.”

“Sorry,” Brady said, smiling. They touched the device and she felt that zippy feeling again. She took a step back as a wave of dizziness hit her.

Two switches later, Ilyria was safely back in her own form. After a brief rest, she began flitting around the room, hovering happily next to whatever body Brady happened to be inhabiting. They followed the pattern Daniel created until finally she was zipped back into her own body. She threw her arms up in a 'touchdown!' stance and gave a victorious whoop, embracing the person nearest her, who happened to be Cam.

“Hey, welcome back, kid,” he said. He glanced at Ronon who stood off to the side, glaring. “How 'bout you go hug Ronon before you get me trouble?” he suggested, pulling back from Brady's grasp.

Brady laughed and made her way over to Ronon, stopping for hugs and pats of congratulations along the way. She looked for Ilyria, smiling as she spotted the queen perched daintily on Sheppard's shoulder. Then her eyes met Ronon's and she forgot about everyone else in the room.

“Hey, you,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Hey, you,” he repeated. “Good to hear from you.”

“Great to be heard,” she chuckled.

“Here,” he said, pulling off his long leather coat and holding it out to her. “Figured you'd had enough of Ilyria's fashion.”

“Uh, that's a big affirmative,” she said, taking the coat and slinging it over her shoulders. Their height difference was palpable—the hem of the coat dragged the floor with every step she took. Still, it was warm and it covered her body, so she was happy. “I didn't see what Teyla packed in my bag for the return trip, but there'd better be a crapload of jeans and t-shirts.”

“Well, Thatcher,” Jack said, stepping over to them. “It's been a while. Maybe next time I see ya it won't be because of some crisis. You Atlantis kids get vacation time just like the rest of us,” he hinted, patting her on the back.

“Yessir, we're on it. Besides, whenever there isn't a crisis, I like to take it about as much as you always liked to take yours,” Brady said, wrapping her arm around his waist in a companionable hug. “Gotta remember who taught me work ethic,” she added with a grin.

“Well, there is that,” he conceded. “Still, get to this side of the gate sometime when there isn't an alien menace. We'll grab a bite somewhere.”

“Yes sir,” Brady said. “You aren't leaving now, are you?” she asked.

“'Fraid so,” Jack said. “Some egghead set off some something-or-other out in the desert and almost killed a bunch of people. Rumor has it a time/space portal was opened. So, as Head of the Department of Homeworld Security, I get to go scare the crap outta some nerds.” He smiled with satisfaction. “This job doesn't _always_ suck,” he added to Ronon.

Ronon chuckled and shook O'Neill's hand. Sheppard and Ilyria joined the couple as the General left the room.

“So, you guys wanna stick around for a while? We _are_ on vacation,” Sheppard said.

“Nah,” Brady said. “I've had enough down time. Besides, weren't you wanting to hit some beach?”

“Yeah,” Sheppard said. “I was gonna show our boy here how to surf. You interested?”

Brady smiled and shook her head. “No thanks,” she said. “Getting pounded by thousands of gallons of water is not my idea of a good time.”

Ilyria stood on Sheppard's shoulder and floated over to Brady. “Would you come to my kingdom when we get back to Atlantis?” she asked. “I believe my people would be much more apt to believe your Atlantis means us no harm if we had an ambassador.”

Brady was flattered by the offer. She looked at Sheppard and shrugged. “I'd love to,” she said. “I'll have to clear it with Woolsey, of course,” she added. “But I don't see why I wouldn't be able to.”

“Lovely,” Ilyria said with a smile.

–

The jaunt through No Man's Land from Milky Way back to Pegasus was, of course, boring as hell. Caldwell congratulated Brady on successfully being back in control of her body and allowed Ilyria to remain out of confinement, as long as one SGA team member was with her at all times. When they were finally beamed onto the dusty, hot surface of P3S-485, Brady happily unzipped her uniform jacket, taking it off and tying it around her waist as she dialed Atlantis.

“Atlantis, this is Brady,” she said when the line opened. “Permission to come home?”

“Permission granted!” Amelia replied excitedly. “Welcome home!” she called as Brady stepped through the gate.

Ronon, Sheppard, and Ilyria came through on her heels and the wormhole closed. Brady dropped her bags and smiled as Carson appeared at the balcony. “What'd I miss while I was gone?” she asked, hurrying up the steps to hug him.

“Not a lot since Rodney was with the crew that went to Earth,” Carson said, hugging her tightly. “Teyla's going to be upset she missed your arrival. She wasn't expecting you for another couple of days so she went to visit Kanaan. Where's—ah, there she is,” he said, smiling as Ilyria fluttered up to hover around them. “Your majesty,” he said with a slight bow. “Lovely to see you.”

“I can honestly say, healer, that it is wonderful to be seen,” she said. She shared a look with Brady and winked before landing to stand on the banister.

“Well, Tinkerbell,” Brady said with a smile. “I suppose we can go up to the tower if you want and send you off. Sorry that we don't have a band or any confetti or anything,” she added cheekily.

“Colonel Sheppard has agreed to walk me out,” Ilyria said. “Brady, I truly hope you are allowed to come to my kingdom. I will return after I check on my people to see what your Mr. Woolsey said.”

Surprisingly, Brady felt her eyes prick. She sniffed and rolled her eyes at herself. “I don't know why I'm crying,” she said with a watery smile. “We didn't get along half the time we were together.”

“But when we did, we did well together,” Ilyria said. “I will miss you, even with your horrible wardrobe.”

“I'll miss you too,” Brady said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“I will see you soon,” Ilyria said, levitating from the banister. She began to float away but stopped and flew back to Brady. “Oh, and congratulations,” she said.

“You too,” Brady said. “For what?”

Ilyria smiled and gave a little laugh before flying away again.

“What was that about?” Carson asked.

“I don't know,” Brady said with a shrug. She groaned and wiped her eyes. “Ok, first thing I'm doing is taking a long shower. Alone. Then going to bed for...oh, I dunno...a week.”

Carson smiled and patted her shoulder as Ronon ascended the stairs.

“The second sounds good to me,” he said quietly as he passed. “Not liking the first one, though.”

Brady arched a brow at him and tucked her tongue between her teeth. “Well, it's not set in stone,” she said with a saucy grin.

“Ok, I'm going to...” Carson said, letting his sentence drop as he leaned over to kiss Brady's cheek. “Glad to have you back, dear,” he said.

“Better watch out, Carson,” Sheppard said, hefting his bags past and nodding toward Brady. “That one's had to hold on to celebratory sex for nearly two weeks. The tension's so thick it'll choke you if you aren't careful.”

Brady nudged Sheppard with her shoulder. “True enough,” she admitted with a grin, slipping ahead of them and taking one of the bags from Ronon. She grinned up at him and flicked her eyebrow before sauntering ahead to their quarters.


	18. Enemy at the Gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue from the show wasn't written by me.

**ENEMY AT THE GATE** January 2009

Brady rolled from her left side to the right, trying to ease the lurching in her stomach. She'd been nauseated for over an hour, ever since Ronon had left for the morning, but she refused to acknowledge that she was sick on her first day off in over a month. Where she usually loathed the idea of sitting around doing nothing, she'd been unreasonably exhausted for the last week. Ronon kept telling her to go see Carson or Keller, but she'd refused. Yesterday the nausea had set in. As chills swept up her body, she threw back the blanket and rushed to the bathroom and hugged the toilet. After her stomach was empty and she had brushed her teeth, she looked at her pale reflection in the mirror, curling her lip. “Fine,” she muttered, drawing on her robe and running a hand through her hair. It was probably against some sort of code of conduct to go traipsing across Atlantis in flannel pj bottoms and a tank top, but Brady didn't care. She didn't even bother to wash the smudged mascara from beneath her eyes. She was going to the infirmary, getting some flu medicine, and then coming back to her quarters and taking the hottest, longest bubblebath in the history of human kind.

She avoided eye contact in the hallway on the way to the infirmary and threw Carson a grimace as she entered the room.

“G'morning, love,” he said cheerily. “Och, what's the matter with you?”

“I think I must have the flu,” Brady said as he scanned her with his detector. “Usual symptoms—fatigue, soreness, nausea...I just puked like, loads. Come on, Carson. Tell me it's not the flu. It's my day off.”

Carson examined his readings and raised his eyebrows. “Well...it's not the flu.”

Brady visibly relaxed. “Oh, good. So you can give me something that'll fix it, right? I've got a date with Mr. Bubbles and I want to be able to enjoy it.”

“Um...no, not exactly. Brady, I need to run a couple more tests to verify these readings, so--”

“What? Why? What's it say?” Brady demanded with a frown, leaning over and trying to sneak a peek at his scanner.

“Well, dear, according to this, you're a bit pregnant,” Carson said, clearly uncomfortable.

“I'm what?!”

Carson patted her shoulder and ushered her to a curtained-off area. “You're pregnant,” he repeated, showing her the scanner. “See? Two heartbeats. Congratulations, Brady,” he said with a dimpled smile.

Brady was in shock. Her mouth hung open and her vision wavered. Pregnant? She couldn't be pregnant. No higher being with infinite wisdom would make her a parent! Plus, she'd likely be sent back to Earth and taken off the expedition if she was pregnant. She began shaking her head. “No, no, no. It's—it's wrong. You read it wrong. I can't be pregnant, Carson.”

“Let me run a few more tests,” Carson said, trying to calm her down. “You just sit here, love, and I'll get you squared away in no time.”

–

She stared down at Carson's readout, but the words didn't make sense. There were a lot of 'positive's and a some garb about enzymes. She raised her panicked gaze to Carson. “What's it say?”

Carson gave her a gentle smile. “It says you're going to be a mother in about seven months' time.”

“Wow,” Brady breathed, looking back at the paper. She placed a hand on her stomach and inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. “Wow.”

“Congratulations?” Carson said, looking at her questioningly.

Brady smiled. “Yes. Yes, of course!” she said happily, throwing her arms around Carson's neck. “Omigod, Carson. I'm totally gonna have a baby.”

“What!”

Brady broke away from Carson and jerked the curtain aside, revealing a shocked McKay standing with wide eyes.

“What are you doing out there?” Carson demanded.

“I was looking for you,” McKay said. “Keller said you were over here with Brady, I thought I'd come by. I was about to make my presence known when...” He looked at her. “You're really pregnant? Does _Ronon_ know?” he added as an afterthought.

“No,” Brady said. “I just found out. And Ronon had better not find out about it from you. Neither had Sheppard. Or Woolsey. I'll tell them...eventually.”

“Don't you think that's something Ronon might want to know, like, now? We're leaving on the Daedalus in an hour, going on some cockamamie thing for Todd.”

Brady pointed a finger at him. “If you even _hint_ that I'm pregnant—to _anyone_—I can't guarantee that there won't be lemon juice added to your tea, or salad, or chicken. You feel what I'm sayin' McKay? Are we on the same page?”

“You're teaching your offspring violence and intimidation from the womb. Yes, we're clear,” McKay said.

“Good,” Brady said. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go freak out in the privacy of my own room.” She pushed between Carson and McKay and left the infirmary without a backward glance.

–

** _Three weeks later..._ **

“Brady, it's Amelia. Are you monitoring?”

Brady lifted her head from the toilet and tapped her radio. “Yeah,” she croaked. “I'm here, Amelia. What's up?”

“Just thought you might want to know that they're expecting the Daedalus soon.”

“Thanks.” Brady pushed herself to her feet and brushed her teeth. She ran her fingers through her hair—recently cut drastically short, since she grossed herself out by puking on it earlier in the week—and forced a smile. “Different? Why whatever do you mean, I look different?” she asked her reflection, practicing her reaction for when someone from Alpha mentioned her appearance.

She sighed and turned to the side, trying to suck in the tummy that was just barely falling out of the waistband of one of the lazing skirts that Teyla had given her. Teyla insisted that the skirts would be more comfortable than her jeans while she was going about her business in the city, though she would have to wear jeans or uniform pants when she went offworld. As much as Brady hated to admit it, she was right. The flowy material was far more comfortable on her expanding waistline.

She asked Carson if her bump was noticeable and he’d assured her that it wasn’t yet, but he’d said it in that exaggeratedly drawn-out way that had her doubting it as truth. Also, though she’d never been very skinny, the little boop that pushed against her tank tops made her think that Carson was full of shit. She rolled up the hem of her David Bowie t-shirt and tucked it under her breasts before turning and examining her belly.

“Bleh,” she said, but she couldn’t quite contain a grin.

She’d been bouncing between elation and nervousness for two weeks. She wasn’t just concerned because of her own hang-ups about being responsible for a child’s life, but also because she wasn’t sure how Ronon was going to react. While she would like to pretend he’d smile and say ‘cool’, she had her doubts he would be that calm. It’d make things easier if he was happy about it, but as weird as he was about being attached to things, she just didn’t know. The only upside to the whole ordeal was that worrying about being preggers kept her from worrying about what was going on out in space with Alpha team.

Her grin slipped and she began nibbling her lip. She pulled her shirt down with another sigh and headed for the door. She reached the control room just as McKay and Ronon came out. Rodney’s eyes widened and he flicked his gaze down to her stomach. Ronon’s eyes narrowed slightly and filled with concern as he bent to give her a quick kiss.

“You’re wearing a skirt.”

“Good eye.”

“You cut your hair,” he said. She raised a hand to it self-consciously. “No, I like it, but are you ok? You look a little pale.”

“What?” McKay scoffed cheerfully. “She doesn’t look pale. She looks...hearty. I mean, look at those cheeks! Like a little chipmunk, huh?” He looked at Ronon nervously and cleared his throat, focusing his attention on the loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve.

“I’m fine,” Brady said, forcing a smile and glancing at McKay. “What’s the story with the Hive?”

“It’s on its way to Earth with nothing to stop it,” McKay said solemnly. “We’ve got the SGC on full alert and we’re trying to come up with something—anything—that might help.”

Brady nodded. “I’ve talked to Todd, and—“

“You what?” McKay and Ronon shouted. Ronon looked at McKay curiously. “What do you care if she talked to him?”

Rodney shuffled his feet. “It’s...well, he’s dangerous. And she’s...” He looked at Brady and back at Ronon. “You know. A girl.”

“Would you relax, please? Need I remind you that I’ve taken both of you down at least once? Now, what I was saying was I’ve talked to Todd, and he claims to know where some ZPMs are.” McKay scoffed and Ronon rolled his eyes. Brady scowled. “What?”

“You really have to ask what’s wrong with that statement?” McKay asked. “Look, I’m going to my lab and gonna try to find a way to stop a Hive full of Wraith—which is what Todd is, if you’ll remember—from attacking my home planet and feeding off its inhabitants. Excuse me.”

McKay brushed past her and Brady shook her head. “It’s my home planet too, ass,” she muttered. She looked up at Ronon. “Are you ok?” she asked, reaching up to touch a small bruise on his cheek. “You guys had me worried there for a sec.”

“Didn’t do a whole lot for us either,” he replied with a sideways grin. He looped his arm over her shoulders and led her down the corridor toward their quarters. Once inside, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Brady, are you sure you’re alright?” He cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb over her skin. She smiled into his palm.

“I’m fine,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. “I missed you. Um, we need to talk.”

“Later,” he said, kissing her. He gripped her shirt in his hands and lifted, pulling back when she tugged it back down. “Brady, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I just...maybe I don’t feel like hopping into the sack with you first thing when you get home. Maybe I want to talk a little first. We don’t have to be naked all the damn time, Ronon.”

Ronon frowned. “Is this another one of those body-snatcher situations?” he asked warily.

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Maybe,” she said. “Look, I don’t know how else to tell you this, so I’m just gonna come right out and say it.” She took a deep breath. “Ronon, I...we...I...”

He waited with a look of expectation. When she didn’t say anything else, he cleared his throat and nodded. “That was informative.”

Brady’s chin trembled and she ran a hand through her hair. “Shit. Where’s Carson when I need him?” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Carson? Why do you need Carson in order to talk to me?” he asked.

“Because, it would be easier to tell you what I have to tell you if he was here,” Brady said slowly. “He’s...he’s my partner in this. He and I—where are you going?”

“To have a word with Carson,” Ronon growled.

“What?” Brady called, hurrying after him. “I’m trying to talk to you, dammit!”

Ronon burst through the infirmary doors and barked at Keller to tell him where Carson was. The startled doctor stuttered out her coworker’s location just as Brady rounded the corner.

“What is your problem?” she shouted at the Satedan.

Ronon carried on ignoring her. He came to the library and found Carson alone in the stacks. His hand was tight on the clone’s throat and held the man against the shelf before Brady could get to him.

“What are you doing?!” Brady shouted, tugging at Ronon.

“Ronon, what’s going—“

“Tell me why,” Ronon said, his voice eerily quiet. He pulled his arm away from Brady and pointed a finger in Carson’s face. “You. Will. Tell. Me.”

“Tell you why what?” Carson asked, confused.

“Would you calm down,” Brady said, but Ronon shrugged her off again. Her eyes narrowed as her temper spiked. “Let him go, Ronon. Now!”

“Look, I’ll tell you whatever you want if it’ll make you put me down, but I don’t have any idea what in the bloody hell you’re talking about!” Carson said.

“Whoa, whoa,” Sheppard said, appearing at the end of the aisle. Keller hovered in the background, looking worried. Obviously she had radioed Sheppard as soon as Ronon left the infirmary. “Ronon, we’ve all got a lot on our minds right now. I was on my way to talk to Todd when Keller called. So, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on here.”

“He slept with Brady, that’s what’s going on,” Ronon said savagely.

“He what?” Sheppard asked, his eyebrows flying up.

“He what?” Brady shouted incredulously.

“I what?!” Carson shouted, wide eyed and confused. “I did not!”

“Brady said you and she were partners and that she needed you to be with her when she talked to me,” Ronon said, bunching his fist in Carson’s shirt and giving him a shake.

Brady stepped forward and punched Ronon on the shoulder with all her might. “Because he’s my friend and my doctor, you moron! I was trying to tell you I’m pregnant, not that I slept with him. Jesus, you’re such a caveman!” She turned on her heel and stomped from the library, leaving Ronon and Sheppard staring after her in shock.

Carson tapped Ronon’s hand and smiled. Ronon released him and apologized.

“I think maybe you should save your apologies for Brady,” Carson said with a sympathetic wince. He patted Ronon’s shoulder and smiled. “For what it’s worth, congratulations, lad.”

Ronon stared at the doctor dumbly, unable to form even one coherent word. Carson patted him again and scooted around him, nodding to Sheppard as he passed.

“You ok, pal?” Sheppard asked warily.

Ronon looked at the other man, but his gaze was distant, unseeing. He slumped onto the edge of a nearby table. Brady was...pregnant? With _his_ child? No wonder she’d been so jittery. And, given the way he had reacted so violently, she had reason to worry. True, he’d flipped out because he’d feared that she was going to leave him for Carson, but still...

_Pregnant_?

“You know, people have had kids before,” Sheppard said, taking a seat next to his friend. “And I’m not speaking from experience, mind you, but I think that look of terror and/or nausea might be a bit of an overreaction.”

“Brady’s pregnant,” Ronon croaked.

“Yeah, I caught that.”

“With my child.”

“Yep, picked up on that too. Look, you think maybe you should...I dunno...go talk to her? I don’t know if you noticed, but she seemed a tad put out when she left.”

“I should go talk to her,” Ronon said mindlessly.

“Hey, there’s an idea!”

Ronon nodded and stood, moving on autopilot. Sheppard watched him leave and shook his head. “Oh, boy.” He checked his watch and left the library, heading for the brig. He had something to discuss with the resident Wraith.

\--

“So this symbol here is the same as this one?” Brady asked, pointing out symbols on a laptop screen.

“Very good,” Todd said. “Your understanding of our written language is quite extensive. You are a quick study.”

She smiled. “Well, I mean, I won’t be translating _Great Expectations_ into Wraith anytime soon, but thanks. I’m kind of starting to pick up on some things. It makes it easier to translate artifacts and stuff if you are aware of synonymous words and symbols.”

“What upsets you then, if you are so happy with your sudden understanding of my language?”

“What? Nothing,” Brady said, closing the laptop.

The Wraith leaned forward slightly. “Smart you may be, but a good deceiver you aren’t.” He smiled chillingly. “Looking to displease someone? John Sheppard, perhaps? Or the sire of your child?”

Brady crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Todd coolly. “I just wanted to go over a few questions with you. That’s it. And now that I have my answers, I can get back to work.”

“Perhaps if you showed me the piece you are working on, I could decipher it for you.”

Brady laughed. “Because you’re just such a nice guy?”

“Have I made a threatening move against you thus far, _p’ri’ya_?”

“You mean aside from calling me ‘food’ at some point every time we meet?” She tapped her head. “Languages, remember?”

This time, Todd laughed. “I was only testing you, young one. Besides, it sounds like an endearment, does it not?”

Brady smiled and shook her head. If anyone would have told her back during the whole Michael fiasco that in the future she would be not only chatting with a Wraith, but being teased by one? Forget about it.

The door wooshed open and she glanced back, her smile disappearing instantly. “Shep.”

“Brady,” Sheppard said as he entered the room. He was tightly coiled, and she was pretty sure his barely-controlled fury was directed as much toward her as it was the Wraith chained to the table. “Ronon went to look for you.”

Her expression settled into a mask of cool indifference and she shrugged. “I’m working.” She picked up her laptop and notebooks and looked at Todd. “Thanks for the help,” she said. She started past Sheppard and he caught her sleeve.

“Wait outside. We need to talk.”

“I’m busy, Shep. There’s a Hive headed to Earth and I have to—“

“That’s an order,” he said quietly, his eyes hard.

“Which would mean something if I was in the military,” Brady said evenly. “Whatever it is you have to say to me, backburner it. Find me when you finish your business here.”

\--

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Brady sighed and made a few notes, not bothering to look up. “And yet, here I am. In my office. Crazy.”

“You’re still mad,” Ronon guessed. “We need to talk.” She flicked her eyes up to glance at him, but didn’t hesitate in her writing.

“Oh? Should I go warn the infirmary staff? Last time we tried to talk it didn’t go so well.”

“I’m sorry. I misunderstood you.”

She jerked off her glasses and tossed down her pencil. “You wanna know why you misunderstood, tough guy? It’s because you never listen!” Fired up, she stood and rounded her desk, flinging her hands as she spoke, her voice rising with every word. “It’s like your brain never shuts up and when it makes a conclusion—usually the wrong one—your giant body lumbers down whatever road you just happen to be on. And usually somebody gets punched, or kicked, or gets a blaster pointed at them!”

“I said I was sorry.”

Brady stopped and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure what pisses me off more: A.) the fact that the first conclusion you jumped to was that I was slutting around with Carson, B.) the fact that instead of taking it up with me, you immediately went and tried to beat up on Carson, or C.) the fact that you think coming in here and grumbling a bored-sounding ‘I’m sorry’ makes up for both A and B!”

“What do you want me to say?” Ronon demanded. “I screwed up. According to you, it’s not the first time. Besides, don’t you think there’s a bigger issue we should be talking about right now?”

“Like, oh, maybe the fact that a Wraith Hive is heading toward my home planet and standing around shooting the breeze with you is interfering with my work?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you’re pregnant with my child!” Ronon said, swiping a book off a desk. “You don’t think that might take precedence to your work? You don’t think you might take five damn minutes to talk to me about it?”

“Ronon,” Brady said tiredly. “I’m pregnant. When I figure out a way to disable, or at least slow down the Hive that’s heading for Earth, I’ll still be pregnant. I promise I will fill you in on everything then. But right now, I need to work. Todd knows where ZPMs are. Sheppard’s out after them. When he gets back—“

“You’re trusting a Wraith,” Ronon said savagely. He spoke slowly, as if to a child, and that always got under Brady’s skin faster than anything else.

“Right now what choice do we have?” she hissed. She turned and returned to her seat, slapping her glasses back on her face. “Our little soap opera is gonna have to wait, Ronon. Deal with it.”

\--

Brady hurried down the corridor toward the Control Tower with a long printout dragging behind her.

“Brady?”

“Amelia, I need to see Sheppard,” she panted.

“Dr. Thatcher? What is it?” Woolsey asked as he approached.

“I know how to kill the Hive shields. I need to see Sheppard.”

“Brady, John gated to Earth hours ago. He’s covering defense from there. We’re preparing to fly the city to intercept the Hive.”

She groaned. Of all the days to take off her headset! “If Sheppard’s gone, I need McKay. He’s still around, right?”

“He’s in the Chair Room hooking up the ZPMs,” Amelia said.

“Dr. Thatcher, as valued as your information is, I’m afraid it’s too late for it. Our only shot at stopping that Hive is to intercept and engage.”

“If we intercept and engage, they’ll have us dead to rights,” Brady said. “Sir, I know what I’m talking about here. The encryption that the Daedalus sent back from their encounter with the Hive the day it used the ZPM wasn’t a coded communiqué, it was computer codes. Their shields are operating at over 170%. Taking out those shields and destroying—or hell, even _crippling_ the Hive—would take everything Atlantis has, plus everything we’re gonna burn up on the flight, plus everything we’ve used powering the city for the last six months.”

Woolsey looked at her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Then pray we can at least give Sheppard and O’Neill the time they need to get up Earth’s defenses,” he said somberly.

\--

Brady had searched the Central Tower top to bottom, checked the infirmary, the gym, the mess hall, the showers, and had called on the radio four different times asking if anyone had seen Ronon. She was on her way to their room when she passed Major Hastings in the hallway.

“Major, have you seen Ronon around?”

“Last I saw he was in the gym,” Hastings said.

“How long ago was that?”

Hastings shrugged. “Ten, fifteen minutes?”

Brady smiled. “Thanks, Major.”

“No problem,” Hastings said. “Oh, hey. Congrats by the way. Heard you’ve got a baby on the way. Glad to hear it.”

“Thank you,” she said. She hurried down the corridor and into a transporter, shooting across the city and rushing to the gym. “Please be there. Please, please, please...” she chanted.

She opened the door just as Ronon did one of his jumpy-slashy-angerball-fighter things and the practice dummy split into three smaller pieces. She didn’t break stride, even when he whirled and snarled at her like an angry jungle cat. She didn’t say a word; she didn’t have to. He stood there, panting from the exertion of his training, facing off with her as her eyes held his and her legs ate up the distance between them. He tossed away his broken Kendo sticks and took a step forward, intercepting her as she collided with his body and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck. She was thankful for the high splits in the skirt that she had to wear enabled her to wrap her legs around his waist. She crushed her mouth to his, desperate for the taste of him.

“I’m sorry. I was being stupid,” she whispered between kisses. “I’m sorry.”

He shushed her, cupping the back of her head and drinking her in. He went to his knees and sat back, laughing when Brady threw her weight forward, knocking him onto his back. He stretched out his legs and stacked his hands behind his head. She sat up and smiled down at him, even as her eyes filled with tears. He sat up in an instant, gently cupping her face in his big hands.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

She covered his hands with her own and closed her eyes. “I love you, Ronon Dex. If we’re flying to our deaths right now, I just wanted you to know.”

He pressed his lips to hers. “Don’t cry, Brady.” He stroked his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, linking her fingers with his. He kissed her knuckles in an uncharacteristically tender action. “We’re gonna be fine.”

She scoffed and sniffled. “Clearly you haven’t been paying attention to what’s going on,” she said, but the corner of her mouth lifted. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you immediately about the baby. I was trying to think of a way to tell you so you wouldn’t freak out.”

“Congratulations on a smashing success there,” Ronon said dryly, giving her one more quick kiss.

She chuckled and smiled at him, arching her brow and shrugging nonchalantly. She released his fingers and bunched the hem of his black tank top in her hands, pulling it over his head and letting it fall to the floor. Ronon’s hands went to the bared skin of her legs, lightly stroking from her knee to her thigh.

“Maybe we should go to our room,” he said. Brady shivered at the growly timbre of his voice. She loved it when it went deeper than normal, especially when she knew that desire for her caused it.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She linked her hands behind his neck and kissed him deeply.

That was all the encouragement Ronon needed. He tugged her close, bringing their bodies flush together, and returned her kiss. His hands streaked up her thighs and beneath the wispy strips of her skirt. When his palms smoothed over her hips without feeling cotton or silk, he pulled back and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Brady shrugged. “What? Going commando is wicked comfortable in a skirt. It’s breezy. Don’t judge me.”

Ronon laughed and shook his head before resuming their kiss. Brady leaned back long enough to pull her t-shirt over her head, kissing his neck even as her hands worked the laces on his breeches.

She clung to him, and he to her, as they testified their love for each other with their bodies. Brady’s fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, holding on to him as if her very survival depended on it. They watched each other closely, their gazes meeting and holding, though Brady had to struggle not to close her eyes in bliss. Ronon saw her lids flutter and dipped his head to kiss her again, catching her quiet moan on his tongue. He gripped her hips, his fingers bunching in the material of her skirt.

Brady couldn’t find her breath. She threw back her head and let sensations assail her as her body crested. As the last vestiges of her peak shuddered through her, her body went lax and she rested her forehead on Ronon’s shoulder. His arms went around her and he gently rolled her onto her back, bracing his weight on his forearms and burying his face against her neck, peppering her skin with lightly nipping kisses. Brady could feel that delicious pressure building again. She brought her knees up and arched to meet Ronon’s hips. With matching cries of satisfaction, their world exploded in blinding passion. Ronon managed to roll them once more so that his weight wouldn’t crush Brady before they both collapsed in an exhausted heap.

“Oh...my...goodness,” she whispered as she panted for breath. She smiled against his chest. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

She chuckled and lolled her head over so that she could look at him. He had one arm draped over his eyes and was panting as hard as she was. He looked beyond content.

“I think I like being pregnant,” she said, grinning.

Ronon didn’t raise his head, but she saw him smile and heard the rumble of laughter in his chest. “I think I like it when you wear skirts.”

“Word. I’m seriously gonna rethink my anti-skirt opinions,” she said, snuggling against his chest and sleepily tracing designs with her fingers. She yawned and sighed with satisfaction.

The peaceful, carefree moment was short lived. The intercom crackled and Woolsey called for Ronon and Teyla to meet him in his office. Ronon playfully snapped her bra strap.

“I gotta go,” he said.

Brady rolled off him with a grunt and stretched out on the cold gym floor, watching as Ronon stood and relaced his pants. A thought struck her and her eyes widened.

“Omigod, we totally just had sex in one of the Atlantis common areas! We’re that skeezy couple, aren’t we?” she asked. She pushed herself to her feet with a groan and looked for her t-shirt. “You know, the ones who have sex in the laundry room of an apartment building, or in the bathroom of a bar, or against the tree in the secluded area of a park.” She covered her mouth with a hand that didn’t quite silence her embarrassed giggle.

Ronon tugged on his beater and grinned at her. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll call it a fluke. I’ll see you later on,” he said, bending to give her a quick kiss. He ducked further and kissed her stomach as well, and Brady’s heart melted. If she hadn’t already been head-over-heels in love with the man, that would have done it.

She scooped up her t-shirt and tugged it on, following him out of the gym. She ran a hand through her hair and threw Teyla a purely feminine smile of knowing as they passed in the hall.

\--

Brady was checking the calibrations on the central quadrant ventilation systems—because, honestly, working on artifacts from Pegasus galaxy had sort of taken a back seat over the past couple of days—when her stomach lurched from the unmistakable feeling of dropping out of hyperspace.

She wiped away a bead of sweat with a grimy hand as she mumbled under her breath. She closed the control console and scooted down the vent shaft on her back until she came to the ladder that led to the Control Room.

“McKay, what’s going on up there?” With a grunt of annoyance, she pulled herself up and trudged up the ladder, sticking her head out of the manhole at the edge of the Control Room. “What’s with the brakes?” she asked Amelia.

“I dunno. Rodney and Radek are working on it.” She helped Brady out of the hole. “Why were you in the vents?”

Brady shrugged. “Trying to siphon some power to the thrusters. I’m gonna go see if there’s anything I can do to help.” She crossed the room and tried not to be nervous at the obviousness of Woolsey’s anxiety.

“But you can fix it?” he asked Rodney.

“Gotta figure out what’s wrong first, don’t I?” McKay snapped.

“Need a hand?” Brady asked. McKay shot her a hostile look.

“Unfortunately there’s nothing your Little Orphan Annie decoder ring will help with,” he said. “This is something for a real scientist.” With that, he turned and hurried away.

“Sorry,” Brady muttered.

“Zelenka, in the meantime recalibrate our Gate position so we can dial Earth,” Woolsey said.

“Yes, right away. Excuse me, Brady,” he said, scooting past her.

“We have to apprise them of our situation,” Woolsey said quietly, as if to himself.

“Is there anything I can do?” Brady asked, and he shook his head.

“McKay is right, Dr. Thatcher. Even with your history at the SGC, there’s nothing you can do here.”

“So do I just go to my quarters and wait for news, or what? Help me out here, sir. I don’t have a purpose right now and I’m out of my element.”

“We all are,” he said with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“I’m going to go to the cafeteria and get some coffee,” she said. “Do you want some?”

“No food or drink—ah, hell. Bring me a giant latte. The biggest you can get.”

Brady grinned. “One big latte, coming up.”

By the time she got back with the tray full of coffees, Radek had finished his recalibrations and the Stargate was set to dial. She passed Woolsey his giant latte when he approached Amelia’s station.

“Open a channel,” he said, taking a tentative sip of his coffee. “Stargate Command, this is Atlantis. Stargate Command, this is Atlantis. Do you read?”

There was nothing but static. Amelia looked back at Woolsey. “Com system is operating, sir. They’re just not responding.”

McKay frowned at his computer. “Ok, this is weird. I’m picking up an energy signature feeding back through the wormhole. It’s Wraith.”

Brady coughed on her coffee as panic lanced through her. “Wraith?”

“The Wraith are at Stargate Command?!”

“No, no. These readings are more like something you’d pick up in the middle of a Hive.”

“But we dialed Earth.”

“Oh no,” Brady breathed. “It’s the gate.”

“Standard Wraith procedure,” McKay said. “Keep your victims from dialing out.”

“What are you talking about?” Woolsey demanded.

“There’s a gate on the Hive!”

“What?!”

Brady tried to hold onto her patience as McKay explained. “The Wraith always try to block the gate of a planet they’re attacking, usually by dialing in. They couldn’t do that in this case so they came up with another solution.”

“It’s the proximity, see?” Brady said. “When two gates are close, one supersedes the other.”

“We encountered exactly the same problem on the Midway Station,” McKay said. “We had to create a work-around to prevent the Pegasus gate from always taking precedence.”

Woolsey pointed at the Stargate. “You’re telling me that wormhole—“

“—leads directly to the Hive,” Brady said. She saw the thoughtful look Woolsey gave McKay and the slight widening of Rodney’s eyes. “Mr. Woolsey, sir, I wish to respectfully submit an idea for consideration regarding a plan of action.” She gave a crisp salute.

Woolsey gave a half-smile and nodded, opening his comms. “I need Lorne and the rest of Alpha to gear up and report to the gateroom.”

\--

“You sure about this?” Lorne asked Woolsey as he stepped up to the gate with a couple of grenades. Woolsey nodded and Lorne pulled the pins. He tossed the grenades through the wormhole and stepped back.

“Think that cleared the way?” McKay asked.

“There’s one way to find out,” Ronon said, striding toward the gate and withdrawing his blaster. He stopped as Brady entered the gateroom, still strapping on her gear. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She stopped and looked up with a puzzled expression. “Um…kinda obvious, isn’t it? I’m going with you guys.”

“We’ll go through, make sure the guards are neutralized,” Lorne said to Ronon. He jerked his chin at Teyla and McKay, then patted Ronon’s shoulder. “Meet us over there.”

“I don’t have time to get into this with you, Brady. You’re pregnant. You aren’t going. End of story.”

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped toe-to-toe with him. “This isn’t about us, Ronon, and it isn’t about me being pregnant. If the Wraith get to Earth, it’ll be Sateda all over again. Every man, woman, and child harvested for food or murdered. So I’m going and I’m going to work my ass off to see that Earth survives. You don’t have the authority to make me stay behind.”

“But I do,” Woolsey said from the balcony. “You’re not cleared for this mission, Dr. Thatcher.”

Brady jerked her head around to look at Woolsey. She looked back at Ronon, who also looked surprised. She set her jaw as her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll fight about this when you get back.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes were somber. “Looking forward to it. Be careful.”

She nodded and watched him go through the gate with her heart in her throat. She turned and unstrapped her tac vest, taking the stairs two at a time as she rushed to the Control Room.

She was about to unload on Woolsey, no holds barred, when he turned around and spoke quietly to Radek.

“I should have sent more marines with them.”

“A full-scale assault wouldn’t have accomplished anything. If they’re going to sabotage key systems on that Hive, they’re going to need speed and stealth.” He looked at Brady. “And focus.”

Brady turned without a word, realizing that now wasn’t the time for discord and relationship issues. There were far too many other things she could be doing…like busting past the guards and getting through that event horizon.

She pulled her tac vest back over her head, secured her weapons, and took the back way to the gateroom. When the door opened, she would have straight shot to the gate. She just had to get past the two marines and the countless people on the balcony who were looking down into the room.

Piece of cake.

“Ok, little baby,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if you can hear mommy yet, because I’m crap at remembering the stages of development, but here goes. I am about to do something really, _really_ dumb. The thing is, I’ve got to go help out your daddy. So I’m gonna need you to buckle up, ok? I know it’s a stupid risk, and I promise I will spend at least the next fifty years making it up to you, but I need you to put on your little baby army helmet and get set.”

She took a deep breath and waved her hand in front of the door, opening it. The marines turned to look at her and she sprinted across the floor, dropping to her knees as one of the men grabbed for her. She slid forward and prayed that the scene from Boondock Saints was at least a little accurate, and that she would slide far enough to jump to her feet before she went through the gate. She passed the guards and pushed herself up using her momentum to throw herself through the wormhole. When she was safely on the other side, she switched on her comms and listened for any chatter from the Atlantis team.

She moved swiftly through the Hive, staying on their trail by following the path of dead Wraith drones scattered here and there. She heard the sound of gunfire and hurried toward it, cursing when the corridor split into three directions. “Stupid bug-men,” she muttered. She picked a tunnel, hoping it was the one that led to her people.

_“Stargate Command, this is Sheppard. Come in.”_

Brady stopped and clasped a hand over her earpiece in shock.

_“Look, I don’t have much time before this place is swarming with Wraith, so I’m arming the nuke.”_

“Arming the nuke?!” Brady hissed. She took off at a run, listening for any sound that might lead her to her team. “Sonofa…”

_“Just do me a favor. When Atlantis shows up…tell ‘em I said goodbye.”_

_“Sheppard, this is McKay! Look, stop what you’re doing. Now!”_

_“McKay?”_

_“Yes, it’s me! I’ve got Lorne and Teyla. We’re on board the Hive!”_

Brady debated on whether or not to reveal her presence because she had a feeling now that there were nukes involved, nobody would be very happy that she—the pregnant egghead—had snuck onboard to save them. After a brief hesitation, she sighed.

“You’ve got me, too. I’m heading toward you…I think. I see an intersection up ahead. Is that you?”

_“Brady?”_

_“What in the hell are you doing here?!” _McKay shouted over the radio. _“Of all the stupid, irresponsible—“_

“Later, Rodney,” she interrupted. “Shep, about that nuke.”

_“This Hive is about to attack Earth. I don’t have much of a choice!”_

_“Look, just wait! We’ll come to you. I’m sure I can rig up some kind of remote detonator,”_ McKay said.

_“What good’s that gonna do for us?” _Sheppard asked. _“We can’t get off this ship, Rodney.”_

_“That’s where you’re wrong.”_

“So far I haven’t encountered any Wraith except the ones you’ve killed,” Brady said. “I’m following your trail. I’ll be with you in a sec.”

_“Be careful,”_ Lorne said.

“Will do.”

She walked through the Hive on full alert, ducking into the folds on the wall when a small contingent of Wraith finally appeared. She saw another intersection up ahead and picked up pace. Her headset crackled and Lorne’s voice came over comms.

_“Brady, dammit, where are you?”_

“I dunno. In a tunnel. Still a bunch of dead Wraith, so still on your path, obviously. I swear, I don’t know why I even bothered—“ She stopped speaking as she entered the clearing. “Oh my God. Oh my God, _Ronon_!” She rushed to him and knelt by his side, her breath coming in hysterical gasps as she struggled not to be sick. She threw aside her tac vest, needing to have the weight lifted from her chest. “No, no, nononono. Wake up,” she pleaded, cupping his cheek and turning his head to the side. His dead, unseeing eyes stared at her. She sobbed loudly, but caught the second one and covered her mouth in case Wraith were near. “Sheppard!” she wailed into her radio.

_“We’re coming, kid,”_ Sheppard said. _“We’re coming for both of you.”_

Her body was wracked with sobs and she fell over Ronon’s corpse. “Wake up, wake up, wake up…please. You can’t just leave me like this.” She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, looking down into his face. “You can’t leave _us_.” She rocked back and forth, crying.

She heard footsteps behind her, but didn’t look back. Someone grabbed her by her hair and pulled her from Ronon. As she stared into the face of a Wraith commander, a deadly calm washed over her. She would kill every last one of these creatures before she left this Hive.

“How many humans are on my ship?” The commander lifted his fist and backhanded her. “You will answer my questions.”

Brady spat blood at him.

The Wraith looked at her for a moment, then looked down at Ronon’s body. “This was your mate?” He smiled coldly. “Males protect their mates. He will answer my questions.” He waved his hand, motioning for the two guards holding Brady to back up a bit. He instructed the other two to hold Ronon’s arms. He then lifted his hand and slammed it down on Ronon’s chest.

The scream of rage that built in Brady’s throat died a quick death as Ronon heaved in a huge gasp of air. Her knees buckled and if not for the Wraith holding her arms, she would have fallen.

Ronon looked around, his eyes wide, and saw the Wraith standing over him.

“I restored your life, human,” it said.

Ronon took a deep breath. “That was real nice of you,” he said.

“Now you will answer my questions.”

“I doubt it.”

The Wraith smiled and stepped aside, revealing Brady and her guards. Ronon’s jaw clenched and his voice dropped an octave.

“Let her go.”

“Your mate is at my mercy. I will kill her slowly and revive her for as long as it takes.” He looked at Brady and leered, slowly running a hand in front of her stomach. “She is strong, she will last. Your offspring, however…”

Ronon raged against the Wraith pinning him down and the commander laughed. Brady struggled with her captors, but they held fast. The radio in her ear crackled.

_“Brady, what’s your status? Are you still with Ronon’s body?”_ Lorne asked. He was breathing hard, as if they were running for her.

“I will kill all five of you,” she said to the Wraith, hoping her comms were still active.

_“What?”_

“Every last Wraith on this Hive is toast, starting with you.” She braced herself as one of the Wraith punched her in the jaw.

_“Five Wraith in your position,”_ Sheppard said. _“Got it.”_

The commander was growing impatient. He stood in front of Brady and lifted his hand. “How many humans are on my ship?” he demanded, looking at Ronon.

Ronon stared defiantly, but Brady could see the fear in his eyes. She held his gaze and mouthed an apology. He gave a shake of his head, barely perceptible, and switched his attention to the Wraith commander. The commander slammed his hand against Brady’s chest and she felt the hooks on his palm pierce her skin.

She screamed. She tried not to, but as the Wraith began to feed, it felt like he was drawing fire from her chest. She heard Ronon’s furious shout and clenched her teeth, trying to tough it out. She flinched as gunfire erupted around her. The Wraith commander pulled his hand away from her and turned to face his attackers, catching a chest full of bullets for his troubles. The guards dropped Brady and lifted their weapons, but Lorne and Teyla dispatched them quickly.

“You ok, Brady?” Lorne asked, kneeling and helping her stand.

“I’m fine. A little heartburn, but otherwise…” She smiled, grunting as she stood. She gasped. “Ronon!” She pushed by Lorne and looked in amazement as Ronon got to his feet.

“You were dead!” McKay said.

“We’re all gonna be dead unless we get out of here,” Sheppard said. He passed Ronon over to Lorne and ran down the corridor.

Ronon lightly touched the bleeding wound on Brady’s chest, picking at the hole in her Star Wars t-shirt. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, unable to think of anything to say. She wrapped her arm around his waist, draping his arm over her shoulders to help Lorne as he adjusted his hold.

“Guys, I know you’ve been through a lot, but we really need to get outta here,” Lorne said.

“Yeah,” Ronon agreed. He looked down at Brady. “We’ll fight about this later.”

She smiled and blinked away tears. “Looking forward to it.”

They rejoined Sheppard and the others and hurried down the corridors. Sam’s voice came over their comms.

_“Sheppard, what’s your status?”_

“Everyone’s accounted for and we’re headed to the gate.”

_“How much time?”_

Sheppard looked at McKay, who shrugged. “Five minutes to get there, five minutes to recalibrate the DHD for local coordinates,” he said.

Sheppard spoke into his radio. “Ten minutes.”

There was a drawn-out pause. When Sam next spoke, her voice was heavy. _“I’m sorry. The Hive is powering weapons. We’re out of time.”_

Sheppard stopped running and everyone slowed to look at him. “Understood,” he said.

“Out of time?” Brady asked, panting for breath. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Give me the detonator,” Sheppard said, looking at McKay.

“But we’re almost there! I mean—look, did I say five minutes to recalibrate the DHD? I meant _two_ minutes!”

Sheppard looked solemn. “Rodney,” he said quietly.

McKay looked at them all and Brady saw the desperation in his eyes, and then the resolve. He typed something on his computer and handed it to Sheppard.

_“John, wait.”_

Brady flinched at Sam’s voice in her ear. “Jeez!”

_“We’re detecting another ship.”_

The team stumbled as the Hive shuttered and rocked. “What the hell was that?” Ronon asked.

_“It’s Atlantis!” _Sam said._ “They’re engaging the Hive!”_

“That may give us enough time to get to the gate,” Sheppard said. He passed the detonator tablet back to McKay and led the way toward the gate. McKay deactivated the explosives and followed.

“I’m gonna help Teyla watch our six,” Brady said to Lorne. “You got him?”

“I can walk,” Ronon said.

“I got him,” Lorne told Brady, ignoring Ronon’s annoyed growl. Brady nodded and slipped out from beneath Ronon’s arm.

She joined Teyla and walked several paces behind the others, watching for any signs of the Wraith. Footsteps resounded down the hall and Teyla alerted Lorne.

“We got company!” Lorne said as he dragged Ronon into the gateroom. McKay knelt by the DHD as the rest of the team opened fire on the Wraith. More and more guards flooded into the hallway.

“How’s it coming, Rodney?” Sheppard called over his shoulder.

“I got it!” McKay said. “Dialing the Alpha site now!” He stood up and pressed the glyphs on the DHD. He initiated the gate and the wormhole was established.

“Alright, let’s move!” Sheppard shouted. He covered the others as they ran for the gate, backing into the room and laying down suppressing fire.

Brady ran behind Lorne, Ronon, and Teyla. She glanced back over her shoulder at the others. McKay passed the detonator to Sheppard. She held out her hand, beckoning McKay through the gate.

“Get through the gate, Brady!” Sheppard shouted.

“Hurry up, Shep. We ain’t got all day.” She didn’t want to leave, but she was out of ammo.

“Nag, nag, nag.”

She went through the gate and walked down the ramp toward the medical tent. Alpha Site had been mostly reestablished after the System Lords were defeated, but it was still small-scale. Lorne was waiting at the base of the ramp.

“Go on in,” he said. “I’ll wait for Sheppard. Oh, and FYI,” he said as she passed. “I wouldn’t want to be you for the next…” He checked his watch. “Oooh, six and a half months.”

“Why?” Brady asked.

“Because I have a feeling you are gonna be seriously grounded. It wouldn’t be right to yell at you while you’re pregnant, even though we should, but I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be on lockdown ‘til that baby makes an appearance.” He sobered and pinned her with his most serious stare. “You took a stupid risk. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Lorne held up his hands. “Oh, it’s not me you need to apologize to. Ronon’s the one who’s gonna be pissed.” Sheppard came through the gate and Lorne left Brady in order to see what was going on with Atlantis and the SGC.

“How’s he doing, doc?” she asked as she entered the tent. She stood at the end of Ronon’s bed and lightly rubbed his leg.

“For a guy who was dead less than an hour ago, he’s got a remarkably strong pulse,” the doctor said with a small smile. He held out his hand to shake Brady’s. “Dean Morgan.”

“Brady,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you. Mr. Dex was very lucky. From what I can tell, when the Wraith brought him back the knife wound in his back was nearly sealed. I’ve given him some antibiotics and a dose of pain meds. He’ll need to rest a few days, but he should be back on his feet before too long.”

“I’m fine,” Ronon insisted. “You need to check her. The Wraith fed on her and she’s pregnant.”

“What in the world were you doing on that Hive?” Dr. Morgan asked. He nodded toward an exam table next to Ronon. “Have a seat. You’re next. I just have to get my scanner.”

Brady lay down on the exam table and looked at Ronon. “On a scale from one to ten, how angry are you right now?”

“Considering I’m doped up on whatever medicine this guy pumped into me, I’m feeling pretty good. So right now, at this second, my anger is probably leveling out around…nine-thousand, eight-hundred and seventy-four. Maybe seventy-five.”

“Pretty mad, huh?”

“What were you thinking, Brady?”

She would prefer him to sound angry. The pain and naked fear in his voice shamed her. She looked down at her fingers and picked at her nails.

“I wasn’t. I mean, I _was_, but…” She dropped her hands and sighed as Dr. Morgan came back and began his scan. “I was thinking too much. I was thinking about the baby, and you, and the team, and Earth…and how I couldn’t protect any of you from my little office.”

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Dr. Morgan said. Brady looked at him, chewing her lip nervously. “Initial scans show that the baby’s heartbeat is steady and normal, as is yours. There are no signs of internal injuries and aside from the wound on your chest and a few bumps and bruises, you seem to be ok. Do you want me to take a look at that?” he asked, indicating her chest.

“It’s ok,” Brady said. “I was just concerned about the baby.”

“The baby is fine. See?” He held up the screen to his scanner and pointed to a shadowy blob in the middle of a milky image. “There he is. Or she. It’s still too early to determine the sex, but the little bun is great.” He looked at the screen. “Based on the size, I’d say you’re somewhere around the beginning of your second trimester?”

“I think so, yeah. Sounds right.”

“Thought so. Well, I’m off to check on Dr. McKay. According to Colonel Sheppard, your team should be ready to disembark back to Earth as soon as everyone’s checked out. Mr. Dex, try to take it easy. You’re in no condition to get upset, plus you don’t want to be shouting the first time your child hears your voice.” He packed up his scanner and nodded. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thanks, doc,” Ronon said. He rolled over onto his side, grunting in pain as he did.

“What are you doing?” Brady demanded, sitting up and sliding from the exam table. She moved to stand beside him, frowning down at him. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Ronon smiled dreamily at her, his eyelids heavy. “Promise you won’t do anything like that again,” he said.

“I promise. Promise me you won’t die on me again.”

He smiled again. “I’ll do my best. We’re going to Earth again?”

“That’s the rumor. We’ll gate down and meet up with the others.”

“Good. Where’s Sheppard?”

“Talking to Lorne and Teyla. To tell you the truth, I hope he waits a little bit before he comes in.”

Ronon chuckled drunkenly. “He’s gonna be mad at you,” he said in a singsong voice. Brady smiled.

“You, my dear, are high as a freakin’ kite right now.”

He spoke to her in Satedan, taking her hand and kissing her fingers in drug-induced tenderness. “_And you, love of my life, are my reason for living_.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she bent down to kiss him. He sighed, slipping off to sleep before she’d even pulled away. When she straightened she locked eyes with Sheppard, who had come in unnoticed.

“You. Outside.”

Brady swallowed and walked around Ronon’s bed, avoiding Sheppard’s gaze as she left the medical tent.

“Ok, before you say anything—“

“Are you alright?” Sheppard asked, interrupting her. Brady stopped, surprised.

“Um…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“And the baby?” he asked, holding his hands out toward her stomach.

“Baby’s good too, Shep. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good. Well, in that case…_what_ in the name of _God_ did you think you were _doing_?! I just got off the horn with Woolsey. He said that you disobeyed a direct order from him and evaded marines in order to get onto that Hive!”

“I did,” Brady said. She wasn’t used to Sheppard yelling at her, but she knew she deserved his ire.

“Did—did you have some sort of breakdown? A stroke? I mean, did you forget that you are a registered, honest-to-God genius? Because I gotta tell you, that is not the behavior of someone who has an IQ of 157.”

“I know.”

Sheppard sighed. “Stop being so damn passive,” he said, squinting his eyes at her. “I’m not going to beat you or anything. Although I can’t guarantee you won’t be brought up on disciplinary charges by the IOA.” He leaned against a post and crossed his arms. “Did you really pull a Footloose knee slide to get through the gate?”

“Yeah,” Brady said. She saw Sheppard smile and felt her own lips twitch. “So are you still mad?”

“Just don’t do that again, alright?”

“You have my word, Shep.” She stepped over to him and gave him a hug.

“Ok, ok…let’s not get crazy,” he protested, but he draped an arm over her shoulders anyway.

“Colonel!” Lorne called from a nearby tent. “SGC just radioed. We’re clear to transport our injured back to Atlantis. We’re going home.”

\--

Brady was returning from the cafeteria with a cup of apple juice and a tray of donuts when she heard Sheppard’s voice coming from Ronon’s recovery room. She stood in the doorway, not sure if she should interrupt.

“…do you really think they’re gonna let us take it back to Pegasus?” Ronon was asking.

“Don’t worry,” Sheppard said. “I’ll make sure you get home.”

Ronon noticed Brady standing in the doorway and smiled. He glanced back at Sheppard. “This _is_ my home.”

Sheppard looked over his shoulder and nodded at Brady. “Whatcha got there, kid?”

“Donuts,” she said, stepping into the room. “Want one?”

“No thanks. I’m gonna take off. I’ll see you soon,” Sheppard said, patting Ronon’s leg. “I don’t think Keller is letting him eat stuff like that yet.”

A funny expression crossed Brady’s face, but she realized he was looking at her tray. “Oh. Right.”

“You didn’t bring those for me, did you?” Ronon asked, arching an eyebrow at her as Sheppard left.

“Yeah I did,” she lied. “But since the doc doesn’t want you to have them…”

“Aw, guess you’ll just have to eat them all yourself,” he said.

“Hey, man. These are Krispy Kreme and they are semi-fresh. Daniel sent ‘em to me via the load of engineers that came in today. If I missed one think in the Milky Way,” she said, holding up one sticky circle, “this would be it.” She finished one of her donuts and linked her fingers with his. “You up for taking a walk?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m tired of being on my back.”

“Good. There’s something I want you to see.” She helped him up and draped his arm over her shoulders. She led him down the hall and out onto the balcony where Woolsey, Carson, Teyla, McKay, and Keller were appreciating the view. “You guys got room for a pregnant lady and a cripple?”

“Of course,” Woolsey said, moving over. “Ronon, welcome to Earth.”

“San Francisco,” Brady said. “Never been here before.”

“No one can see us, right?” Keller asked.

“We managed to activate the cloak before we came in too close. This entire area is under naval quarantine.”

“Oh, so this is where everyone went, huh?” Sheppard said as he strode out onto the balcony. He joined them, leaning against the banister and admiring the Golden Gate Bridge. “Nice view.”

“Yes,” Woolsey said. “Yes it is.”

They stood for a long time until one by one, they returned to the heart of the city. Woolsey called a meeting for all Atlantis personnel to discuss the new policies while visiting Earth.

“The IOA has implemented a lockdown for all personnel. Until further notice, we are confined to Atlantis, unless we are given duties at the SGC or one of the outlying colonies. I need medical personnel to report to my office at 0400 for temporary reassignment. I need all science personnel and any military personnel qualified to help with system repairs. All non-essential workers will be disbursed to other SG outposts.” There was a wave of murmuring among the people, but they settled when Woolsey raised his hands. “I have already discussed the matter with the IOA, and as soon as Atlantis is up and running—which, realistically, could take months—everyone who wishes to rejoin the expedition will be reinstated.”

“So if we aren’t assigned to another division, what do we do until the ship is fixed if we are under lockdown?” someone asked.

Woolsey shook his head and said simply, “We wait.”


End file.
